(navigation image)
Home American Libraries | Canadian Libraries | Universal Library | Community Texts | Project Gutenberg | Children's Library | Biodiversity Heritage Library | Additional Collections
Search: Advanced Search
Anonymous User (login or join us)
Upload
See other formats

Full text of "Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920: And Year Book of American Poetry"

Google 



This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 







^H 


I^^^^l B ^^^^^^^^^1 


^^H 






1 






ANTHOLOGY 
OF MAGAZINE VERSE 

FOR 1920 

BY 
WILUAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE 






^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 





ANTHOLOGY 

^ OF 

MAGAZINE VERSE 

FOR 1920 

AND YEAR BOOK OF 
AMERICAN POETRY 

EDITED BY 
WILLIAM STANLEY BRATTHWAITE 




BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD S? CXDMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



CONTENTS 

Page 
Intboduction iz 

Acknowledgments xiii 

Anthology of Poems 1 

The Yearbook of Amebic an Poetbt 123 

Index of Poets and Poems Published in American 
Magazines, August, 1919 — July, 1920 . . . 125 

Abticles and Reviews of Poets and Poetbt Pub- 
lished DuBiNG 1919 — 1920 161 

Volumes of Poems Published Dubing 1919 — 1920 . 169 

A Select List of Books About Poets and Poetbt . 175 

Index of Fibst Lines 177 



ANTHOLOGY 

OF 

MAGAZINE VERSE 

FOR 1920 



ited with his speech, but more nearly in that of 
the Greek Anthology, by Masters sharpened with 
a bitter irony. 

In all directions such borrowings extend. Even 
popular verse men of the newspapers play daily 
pranks with Horace, fetching him from the cool 
shades of wit to the riotous companionship of 
Franklin P. Adams and George M. Cohan. China 
and Japan have suddenly been discovered again 
by Miss Lowell and Mr. Lindsay and Witter 
Bynner and Eunice Tietjens and a dozen others; 
have been discovered to be rich treasuries of 
exquisite images, costumes, gestures, moods, emo- 
tions. The corners of Europe have been ransacked 
by American poets as by American collectors, and 
translators at last are finding South America. 
Imagism has been imported and has taken kindly 
to our climate: H. D. is its finest spirit. Miss 
Lowell its firmest spokesman. Ezra Pound is a 
translator-general of poetic bibelots, who seems 
to know all tongues and who ransacks them with- 
out stint or limit. With exploration goes excava- 
tion. Poets are cross-examining the immigrants, 
as T. A. Daly the Italian- Americans. The myths 
and passions of Africa, hidden on this continent 
under three centuries of neglect and oppression, 
have emerged with a new accent in Mr. Lindsay, 
who does indeed see his negroes too close to their 
original jungles, but who finds in them poetry 
where earlier writers found only farce or sentiment. 
Still more remarkably, the Indian, his voice long 
drowned by the march of civilization, is heard 
again in tender and significant notes. Speaking 
so solely to his own tribe, and taking for granted 
that each hearer knows the lore of the tribe, the 
Indian must now be expanded, interpreted; and 
already Mary Austin and Alice Corbin and Con- 
stance Lindsay Skinner have worked charming 
patterns on an Indian ground. At the moment, so 
far as American poetry is concerned, Arizona and 



New Mexico are an authentic wonderland of the 
nation. Now poets and lovers of poetry and 
romance, as well as ethnologists, follow the news 
of the actual excavations in that quarter. 

Indian and negro materials, however, are in 
our poetry still hardly better than aspects of the 
exotic. No one who matters actually thinks that 
a national literature can be founded on such alien 
bases. Where, then, are our poets to find some 
such stout tap-root of memory and knowledge as 
Thomas Hardy follows deep down to the primal 
rock of England.'^ The answer is that for the pres- 
ent we are not to find it. We possess no such 
commodity. Our literature for generations, per- 
haps centuries, will have to be symbolized by the 
melting pot, not by the tap-root. Our geographi- 
cal is also our spiritual destiny. The old idea of 
America-making in its absurd ignorance demanded 
that each wave of newcomers be straightway 
melted down into the national pot and that the 
resultant mass be as simply Anglo-Saxon as ever. 
This was bad chemistry. What has happened, and 
what is now happening more than ever, is that of 
a dozen — a hundred — nationalities thrown in, 
each lends a peculiar color and quality. Arturo 
Giovannitti gives something that Robert Frost 
could not give; Carl Sandburg something not to 
be looked for from Edwin Arlington Robinson; 
James Oppenheim and Alter Brody what would 
not come from Indiana or Kansas. Such a fusion, 
of course, takes a long time. The great myths 
and legends and histories of the Britons lay 
unworked for centuries in Anglo-Saxon England 
before the Normans saw them and built them into 
beauty. Eventually, unless the world changes in 
some way quite new to history, the fusion will be 
accomplished. But in the meantime experimenta- 
tion and exploration and excavation must be 
kept up. We must convert our necessities into 
virtues; must, lacking the deep soil of memory, 

xi 



which is also prejudice and tradition, cultivate 
the thinner soil which may also be reason and 
cheerfulness. Our hope lies in diversity, in variety, 
in colors yet untried, in forms yet unsuspected. 
And back of all this search lie the many cultures, 
converging like immigrant ships toward the 
narrows, with aspirations all to become American 
and yet with those things in their diflferent con- 
stitutions which will enrich the ultimate substance. 



xu 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

To the American poets and to the editors and 
proprietors of the magazines from which I have 
selected the poems included in the Anthology, I 
wish to express my obligation for the courteous 
permissions given to make use of copyright mate- 
rial in the preparation of this volume. 

I wish, also, to thank the Boston Transcript 
Company for permission to use material which 
appeared in my annual review of American poetry 
in the columns of The Evening Transcript and to 
The Nation Press, Inc., for permission to reprint 
the editorial which stands as the introduction to 
this volume. 

To the following publishers I am indebted for 
the privilege of using the poems named from the 
volumes in which they have been included, and 
which have been published before the appearance 
of this Anthology: 

The Macmillan Company: "The Wandering 
Jew," "Tact," and "Inferential," in The Three 
Taverns, by Edwin Arlington Robinson; "To 
Other Marys," in Youth Riding: Lyrics, by Mary 
Carolyn Da vies; "I Thought of You," "Oh Day 
of Fire and Sun," "When Death is Over," "The 
Long Hill," "What Do I Care," in Flame and 
Shadow by Sara Teasdale. 

Henry Holt and Company: "Little Caribou 
Makes Big Talk," in Many Many Moons, by 
Lew Sarett. 

Charles Scribner's Sons: "Storm and Sun," in 
Dust and Light, by John Hall Wheelock. 

• • • 

XIU 



E. P. Dutton and Company: "A Nature Lover 
Passes, " in ^ Minstrel Sings, by Daniel Henderson. 

The Yale University Press: "The House at 
Evening, " and " Her Way, " in The Perpetual Light, 
by William Rose Benet; "Farmers," in In April 
Once, by William Alexander Percy. 

Small, Maynard and Company: "Maximilian 
Marvelous," and "Transformation," in Veils of 
Samite by J. Corson Miller; **April,'* in. 

Hareourt, Brace and Howe, Inc.: "The Lawyers 
Know Too Much," "Accomplished Facts" and 
"Tangibles," in The City of Smoke, by Carl 
Sandburg; "Rebels" and "Auction: Anderson 
Galleries," in The New Adam by Louis Unter- 
meyer. 

Brentano's: "You Talk of This and That" and 
"He Did Not Know," in Chanties and Songs by 
Harry Kemp. 

B. W. Huebsch: "Exile," "Gesture" and 
"Resemblance," in The Hesitant Heart, by Wini- 
fred Welles. 

Nicholas L. Brown: "Dorothy," in The Blood of 
Things: A Second Book of Free Forms, by Alfred 
Kreymborg. 

Alfred A. Knopf : "Sonnet" and "Ending",in 
** Advice and Other Poems'* by Maxwell Bode^iieim. 



THE BLACK ROCK 

To Thomas Hardy 



Off the long headland, threshed about by round-backed 

breakers, 
There is a black rock, standing high at the full tide; 
Off the headland there is emptiness. 
And the moaning of the ocean. 
And the black rock standing alone. 

In the orange wake of sunset. 

When the gulls have fallen silent. 

And the winds slip out and meet together from the 

edges of the sea, 
Settled down in the dark water. 
Fragment of the earth abandoned, 
Ragged and huge the black rock stands. 

It is as if it listened. 

Stood and listened very intently 

To the everlasting swish and boom and hiss of spray. 

Listened to the creeping-on of night; 

While afar off, to the westward. 

Dark clouds silently are packed together. 

With a dull red glow between. 

It is listening, it is lonely; 

For the sunlight 

Showed it houses near the headland. 

Trees and flowers; 

For the sunlight caused to grow upon it scanty blades 

of grass. 
In the crannies of the rock. 
Here and there; 
For the sunlight brought it back remembrance of a 

world 
Long rejected 

1 



And long lost; 

Showed it white sails n^ear the coast. 

Children paddling in the bay, 

Signs of life and kinship with mankind 

Long forgot. 

Now the sunset leaves it there. 

Bare, rejected, a black scrap of rock. 

Battered by the tides. 

Wallowing in the sea. 

Bleak, adrift, 

Shattered like a monstrous ship of stone. 

Left aground 

By the waters, on its voyage; 

With no foot to touch its deck. 

With no hand to lift its sails. 

There it stands. 



n 

Gulls wheel near it in the sunlight. 

White backs flash; 

Gray wings eddy, curl, are lifted, swept away. 

On a wave; 

Gulls pass rapidly in the sunlight 

Round about it. 

Gulls pass, screaming harshly to the wave-thrusts. 
Laughing in uncanny voices; 
Lonely flocks of great white birds. 
Like to ghosts; 

But the black rock does not welcome them. 
Knows by heart already all their cries; 
Hears, repeated, for the millionth millionth time 
All the bitterness of ocean 
Howling through their voices. 

It still dreams of other things. 
Of the cities and the fields, 

2 



And the lands near to the coast 
Where the lonely grassy va,lleys 
Full of dun herds deeply browsings 
Sweep in wide curves to the sea; 

It still holds the memory 
Of the wild bees booming, murmuring. 
In the fields of thyme and clover» 
And the shadows of broad trees 
Towards noon: 

It still lifts its huge scarred sides 
Vainly to the burning glare of sun» 
With the memory of doom 
Thick upon them; 
And the hope that by some fate 
It may come once more to be 
Part of all the earth it had; 

Freed from clamor of the waves. 
From the broken planks and wreckage 
Drifting aimless here and there. 
With the tides; 

Freed to share its life with earth. 
And to be a dwelling-place 
For the outcast tribes of men. 
Once again. 



Ill 

In the morning. 

When the dark clouds whirl swift over. 
From the southeast, dragging with them 
Heavy curtains of gray rain, 

The black rock rejoices. 

All its little gullies drip with cool refreshing showers. 

All the crannies, all the steeps. 

All the meagre sheltered places 

Fill with drip and tinkle of the rain. 

3 



But when the afternoon between the clouds 
Leaves adrift cool patches of the sea» 
Between floes of polar snow; 

Then the rock is all aflame : 
Diamond » emeralds, topazes. 
Bum and shatter, and it seems 
Like a garden filled with flowers. . 

Like a garden where the rapid wheeling lights 
And black shadows lift and sway and fall; 
Spring and summer and red autumn chase each other 
Moment after moment, on its face. 

So, till sunset 

Lifts once more its lonely crimson torch. 

Menacing and mournful, far away; 

Then an altar left abandoned, it stands facing all the 

horizon 
Where the light departs. 

Massive black and crimson towers. 

Cities carven by the wind from out the clouds of sunset 

look at it; 
It has dreamed them, it has made this sacrifice. 
Now it sees their rapid passing. 
Soon it will be bleak and all alone. 



IV 

Abrupt and broken rock, 

Black rock, awash in the midst of the waters. 

Lonely, aloof, deserted, 

Impotent to change; 

Storm-clouds lift off. 
The dawn strikes the hills far inland. 
But you are forever tragic and apart. 
Forever battling with the sea; 

4 



Till the waves have ground you to dust — 

Till the ages are all accomplished> 

Till you have relinquished the last reluctant fragment 

To the gnawing teeth of the wave; 

I know the force of your patience, 

I have shared your grim silent struggle, 

The mad dream you have, and will not abandon. 

To cover your strength with gay flowers; 

Keel of the world, apart, 
I have lived like you. 

Some men are soil of the earth; 

Their lives are broad harvest fields 

Green in the spring, and gold in their season. 

Then barren and mown; 

But those whom my soul has loved 
Are bare rocks standing off headlands; 
Cherishing, perhaps, a few bitter wild flowers. 
That bloom in the granite, year after year. 

The Yale Review John Govld Fletcher 



THE APPLES 

— The world is wasted with fire and sword 
But the apples of gold hang over the sea. — 

When the wounded seaman heard the ocean daughters 

With their dreamy call 

Lull the stormy demon of the waters. 

He remembered all. 



He remembered knowing of an island charted, 
"Past a flying fire," 

Where a fruit was growing, winey-hearted. 
Called "the mind's desire." 

5 



Near him broke the stealmg rollers into jewels 
Round a tree» and there 
Sorrow's end and healing, peace, renewab 
Ripened in the air. 

So he knew he'd found it and he watched the glory 
Burning on the tree 

With the dancers round it — like the story — 
In the swinging sea. 

Lovely round the honey-colored fruit, the motion 
Made a leafy stir. 

Songs were in that sunny tree of ocean 
Where the apples were. 

First the ocean sung them, then the daughters after. 
Dancing to the word. 

Beauty danced among them with low laughter 
And the harp was heard. 

In that sea's immeasurable music sounded 
Songs of peace, and still 

From the bough the treasure hung down rounded 
To the seaman's will. 

Redder than the jewel-seeded beach and sharper 
Were the woimds he bore, 
Hearing, past the cruel dark, a harper 
Lulling on the shore. 

Long he watched the wonders, ringed with lovely perils* 

Watched the apples gleam 

In the sleepy thunders on the beryls. 

Then he breathed his dream: 

'* Bloody lands and flaming seas and cloudy slaughter. 

Hateful fogs unfurled. 

Steely horror, shaming sky and water. 

These have wreathed the world. 

6 



€€ 



Give me fruit for freighting, till my anchor grapples 
Home beyond the vast. 

Earth shall end her hating through the apples 
And be healed at last. *' 

Then the sea-girls> lifting up their lovely voices 
With the secret word. 
Sang it through the drifting ocean noises 
And the sailor heard; 

Ocean-old the answers reached his failing sinew. 
Touched, unveiled his eyes; 
''Beach and bough and dancers are within you. 
There the island lies. 

*' Though the heavens harden, though the thunders 

hover. 
Though our song be mute, 
Burning in our garden for the lover 
Still unfolds the fruit." 

Outward from that shore the happy sailor, turning, 
Passed the fleets of sleep. 
Passed his pain and bore the secret, burning, 
Homeward to the deep. 

The Nation Ridgely Torrence 



INVOCATION 

Make of my voice a blue-edged sword, Oh, Lord! 
Strengthen my soul to deliver your war-cry, 
Make of my voice a blue-edged sword. Oh, Lord! 

Out of my frailness fashion a piercing reed. 

Out of my pity a great battle ax, 

Out of my frailness fashion a piercing reed ! 

7 



I have had a vision and I cannot sleep, 
A vision consumes me and tears me apart, 
I have had a vision and I cannot sleep. 

Oh body of mine, make of yourself a stronghold. 

Gird yourself in the steel of your vision. 

Oh body of mine, make of yourself a stronghold! 

Make of my breath an infinite prophecy. Oh, Lord! 

Make of my song a summons to prayer. 

Make of my breath an infinite prophecy. Oh, Lord! 

A vision consumes me and I am its slave and its lover. 
Make of my spirit a song so that I may announce it! 
A vision consumes me and I am its slave and its lover. 

Contemporary Verse Marya Alexandrovna Zaturenaky 



BEAUTY 

. . . and The Good, which lies beyond is the Fountain at 
once and Principle of Beauty: the Primal Good and the 
Primal Beauty have the one dwelling-place and, thus, 
always. Beauty's seat is There. — Plotinus. 

The sun shines bright in many places, 

Beauty stoops into the vault; 

One Light illumines many faces. 

Shows perfection through the fault. 

And every mountain, sky or river 

Holds one heavenly reply 

To my questions, from the Giver 

Of the Gift that cannot die. 

Yet I destroy my purest pleasure 

While I hesitate, compare. 

God is the undivided Treasure . . . 

Timeless Beauty is my share. 

The Catholic World Armel O'Connor 

8 



I 



CONFESSIONAL 

I do not kneel at night, to say a prayer; 
I think of spiders and I do not dare ! 

My knees are thin, and easily they could 
Gather a splinter, roughened from the wood. 

I'm cold, and bed is warm; I'm better there. 
Than in the outer darkness of a prayer! 

But when the morning wakes up, pink and cool. 
And sunrise makes our peach-blooms glory-full; 

And God comes smiling down the garden-walk, 
I run and slip my hand in His, and talk! 

I tell Him that I am a naughty lamb; 
He laughs and says He made me as I am! 

Contemporary Verse Katharine McCluskey 



THE DANCER IN THE SHRINE 

I am a dancer. When I pray 

I do not gather thoughts with clumsy thread 

Into poor phrases. Birds all have a way 

Of singing home the truth that they are birds. 

And so my loving litany is said 

Without the aid of words. 

I am a dancer. Under me 

The floor dreams lapis lazuli. 

With inlaid gems of every hue — 

Mother o' pearl I tread like dew. 

While at the window of her frame 

Our Lady, of the hallowed name. 

Leans on the sill. Gray saints glare down. 

Too long by godliness entranced, 

9 



With piety of painted frown. 

Who never danced — 

But Oh, Our Lady's quaint, arrested look 

Remembers when she danced with bird and brook. 

Of wind and flower and innocence a part. 

Before the rose of Jesus kissed her heart 

And men heaped heavy prayers upon her breast. 

She watches me with gladness half confessed 

Who dare to gesture homage with my feet» 

Or twinkle lacy steps of joy 

To entertain the Holy Boy; 

Who, laughing, pirouette and pass. 

Translated by the colored glass. 

To meanings infinitely sweet. 

And though it is not much, I know» 

To fan the incense to and fro 

With skirt as flighty as a wing. 

It seems Our Lady understands 

The method of my worshipping. 

The hymns I'm lifting in my hands — 

I am a dancer — 

Contemporary Verse Amanda Benjamin HaU 



THE PRODIGAL 

God has such a splendid way 

Of launching his unchallenged yea: 

Of giving sphery grapes their sheen; 
Of painting trees and grasses green; 

Of crooning April rains that we 
May wash us in simplicity; 

10 



Of swinging little smiling moons 
Beyond the reach of noisy noons; 

Of storing in the honey bee 
The whole of life's epitome. 

God has such a splendid way 
Of tempting beauty out of clay» 

* 

And from the scattered dusts that sleep 
Summoning men who laugh and weep; 

And, by and by, of letting death 
Draw into space our thread of breath. 

Poetry 9 A Magazine of Verse Louise Ayres Oamett 



SECOND GROWTH 

Men know that the birch-tree always 

Will grow where they cut down the pine — 

This is the way of the forest, 
And the same way shall be mine. 

For now that my sorrow lies stricken, 

And shadow in me is done, 
I, too, shall have years of laughter. 

And of dancing in the sun. 

Harper's Magazine Winifred WeUes 



11 



SUDDENLY 

Suddenly flickered a flame. 
Suddenly fluttered a wing: 
What» can a dead bird sing? 
Somebody spoke your name. 

Suddenly fluttered a wing. 
Sounded a voice, the same, 
Somebody spoke your name: 
Oh, the remembering! 

Sounded a voice, the same. 
Song of the heart's green springs 
Oh, the remembering : 
Which of us was to blame? 

Song of the heart's green springs 
Wings that still flutter, lame. 
Which of us was to blame? — 
God, the slow withering ! 

The Century Magazine Leonora Speyer 



12 



FULL-CIRCLE 

Now that the gods are gone. 

And the kmgs» the gods' shadows, are gone, 
Man is alone on the earth. 

Thrust out with the suns, alone. 

Silent he walks among 

The unanswering stars of his night. 
Knowing his hands are weak, that his eyes 

Deceive in the light. 

Knowing there is no guerdon to win 

But the dark and his measure of mould. 

Foreseeing the end of dream, foreseeing 
Youth grow old. 

Yet, knowing despair he is free. 

Free of bonds, of faith, of pain. 
What should frighten him now 

Who has nothing to gain. 

When he takes the place of the gods. 

And chaos is his and the years. 
And the thunderous histories of worlds 

Throb loud for his ears? 

Now that the gods are gone 

The skies are dust in his hands; 
Through his fingers they slip like dust 

Blown across waste lands; 

And his glance takes in beauty and grief 

And the centuries coming or flown: 
He is god of all ways and things — 

And a fool — and alone. 

The New Republic McLXwell Anderson 

13 



SONG 

If I could sing the song of the dawn. 
The carolling word of leaf or bird. 
And the sun- waked fern uncurling there 
I would go lonely and would not care! 

If I could sing the song of the dusk, 
The stars and moon of glistening June 
Lit at the foot and the head of me. 
The Spinner might break the thread of me! 

If I could sing but the song of love. 
Fill my throat with each sounding note. 
Others might kiss and clasp and cling. 
Mine be the lips that would sing — would singt 

The Smart Set Leonora Speyer 



I COME SINGING 

I come singing the keen sweet smell of grass 

Cut after rain. 

And the cool ripple of drops that pass 

Over the grain. 

And the drenched light drifting across the plain. 

I come chanting the mad bloom of the fall. 

And the swallows 

Rallying in clans to the rapid call 

From the hollows, 

And the wet west wind swooping down on the swallows. 

I come shrilling the sharp white of December, 

The night like quick steel 

Swung by a gust in its plunge through the pallid ember 

Of dusk, and the heel 

Of the fierce green dark grinding the stars like steel. 

The Ne%D Republic Jacob Auslander 

14 



THE LOON 

A lonely lake, a lonely shore, 
A lone pine leaning on the moon; 
All night the water-beating wings 
Of a solitary loon. 

With mournful wail from dusk to dawn 
He gibbered at the taunting stars, — 
A hermit-soul gone raving mad» 
And beating at his bars. 

American Forestry Lew Sarett 



SPRING COWARDICE 

I am afraid to go into the woods, 

I fear the trees and their mad, green moods. 

I fear the breezes that pull at my sleeves. 
The creeping arbutus beneath the leaves, 

And the brook that mocks me with wild, wet words: 
I stumble and fall at the voice of birds. 

Think of the terror of those swift showers. 
Think of the meadows of fierce-eyed flowers: 

And the little things with sudden wings 
That buzz about me and dash and dart. 
And the lilac waiting to break my heart! 

Winter, hide me in your kind snow, 
I am a coward, a coward, I know! 

Contemporary Verse Leonora Speyer 

15 



SENTINELS 

Oh line of trees all dark and green 
Like stately sentinels you stand — 
<jod*s mystery to the world you brings 
God's presence to the land! 

So straight and free. 

So still and dark, 

Grod's sentinels you stand. 

Your leafiness makes one forget 

The wrath of His invisible Hand. 



But lacy leaves mean sturdy bark. 
So sure you point the mark — 
Big exclamations to God's throne. 
Your trembling leaves cry "Hark! 



99 



Rose Parkewood 



MY FLOWER 

One night in May in a clear sky 

The moon was a daisy flower: 

And I put it in my coat, 

A bouquet of Love ! . 

Now I shall wear it 

When I go 

Along the city streets: 

The people will say 

As I pass by — 

"He has a sweet soul!" 

They will not see my flower. 

And cannot know 

Whence comes the fragrance of my spirit! 

The Wayfarer Ira Titua 

16 



TREES NEED NOT WALK THE EARTH 

Trees need not walk the earth 

For beauty or for bread; 

Beauty will come to them 

Where they stand. 

Here among the children of the sap 

Is no pride of ancestry: 

A birch may wear no less the morning 

Than an oak. 

Here are no heirlooms 

Save those of loveliness. 

In which each tree 

Is kingly in its heritage of grace. 

Here is but beauty's wisdom 

In which all trees are wise. 

Trees need not walk the earth 

For beauty or for bread; 

Beauty will come to them 

In the rainbow — 

The sunlight — 

And the lilac-haunted rain; 

And bread will come to them 

As beauty came: 

In the rainbow — 

In the sunlight — 

In the rain. 

The Nation David Rosenthal 



SUGARING 

A man may think wild things under the moon — ^ 
In March when there is a tapping in the pails 
Hung breast-high on the maples. Though you sink 
To boot-tops only in the uncrusted snow, 
And feel last autunm's leaves a short foot down, 

17 



There will be one among the men you meet 

To say the snow lies six feet level there. 

•*Not here!" you say; and he says, "In the woods" — 

Implying woods that he knows where to find. 

Well, such a moon may be miraculous. 

And if it has the power to make one man 

Believe a common February snow 

The great storm- wonder he would talk about 

For years if once he saw it, there may be 

In the same shimmering sickle over the hill 

Vision of other things for other men. 

The moon again 

Playing tonight with vapors that go up 

And out into the silver. The brown sap works 

Its foamy bulk over the great log fire. 

Colors of flame light up a man, who kneels 

With sticks upon his arm, and in his face 

A grimace of resistance to the glow. 

All that is burning is not under here 

Boiling the early sap — I wonder why. 

It is as calm as a dream of paradise 

Out there among the trees, where runnels make 

The only music heard above the sway 

Of branches fingering the leaning moon. 

And yet a man must go, when the sap has thickened. 

Up and away to sleep a tired sleep. 

And dream of dripping from a rotting roof 

Back into sap that once was rid of him. 

I wonder why, I wonder why, I wonder . . . 

Close the iron doors and let the fire die, • 

And the faint night-wind blow through the broken 

walls. 
The sugar thickens, and the moon is gone. 
And frost threads up the singing rivulets. 
I am going up the mountain toward the stars. 
But I should like to lie near earth tonight — 
Earth that h&s borne the furious grip of winter 

18 



And given a kind of birth to beauty at last. 

Look! — the old breath thrills through her once again 

And there will be passion soon, shaking her veins 

And driving her spirit upward till the buds 

Burst overhead* and swallows find the eaves 

Of the sugar-house untroubled by the talk 

Of men gone off with teams to mend the roads. 

I think I shall throw niyself down here in the snow 

So to be very near her when she stirs. 

Poetry y A Magazine of Verse Raymond Holden 



FLOWERS 

Not all flowers have souls» 

But roses, for they are memories of lovers. 

And lilies, their prayers, 

Azaleas, who give themselves to the winds. 

And irises, beloved of Pindar, 

And the pale cenothera. 

Incandescent in the twilight. 

And many sweet and simple flowers — 

Snowdrops and violets. 

White and delicately veined — 

And all shadowy wind-flowers. 

But not tree blossoms. 

Which are the breath of Spring, 

Nor poppies, splendid and secret. 

And sprung from drops of Persian blood. 

Nor water-lilies, who have but their dreams. 

And float, little worlds of scent and color. 

Wrapt in their golden atmosphere. 

The Dial Florence Taber Holt 



19 



THE GATE 

The dust is thick along the road; 

The fields are scorching in the sun; 
My wife has ever a bitter word 

To greet me when the day is done. 

The neighbors rest beside the gate 

But half their words are high and shrill. 

My son is over-young to help; 
The fields are very hard to till. 

But in the dusk I raise my eyes — 
The poet's words come back to me: 

'*In the moon there is a white jade gate 
Shadowed cool by a cassia tree." 

Poetry f A Magazine of Verse Elizabeth J, Coatsworth 



THE GARDEN 

Two of Thy children one summer day worked in their 

garden. Lord; 
They chopped the weeds of yesterday and you sent 

down a golden smile. 
Two of Thy children one sunny day worked in their 

garden* Lord, 
They hoed the furrow straight for the earthy bed and 

you whispered a singing smile. 
Two of Thy children one wyidy day worked in their 

garden. Lord; 
They pressed out the lumps from the clayey soil and 

you closed your shining eyes; 
Two of Thy children one cloudy day worked in their 

garden. Lord, 
They dropped in the seeds with a song in their hearts 

and you sent a soothing tear. 

20 



Two of Thy children one rainy day turned from their 

garden. Lord — 
Your Smile and your Sigh and your Tear entered into 

their hearts. 
Two of Thy chUdrertj all the days of their life will work in 

Thy garden. Lord! 

Rose Parkewood 



THE GARDEN WALL 

The Roman wall was not more grave than this. 

That has no league at all with great afiPairs, 
That knows no ruder hands than clematis. 

No louder blasts than blowing April airs. 
Yet, with a gray solemnity it broods. 

Above the walk where simple folk go past. 
And in its crannies keeps their transient moods. 

Holding their careless words unto the last. 

The rains of summer, and the creeping vine 
That season after season clings in trust. 

And shivered poppies red as Roman wine, — 

These things at last will haunt its crumbled dust — 

Not dreams of empires shattered where they lie. 
But children's laughter, birds, and bits of sky. 

The Bookman David Morton 



THE SOUVENIR 

» 

Of finest porcelain and of choicest dye. 
This bit of egg shell from a robin's nest; 
I thought at first I'd found upon earth's breast 
A chip from that blue bowl we call the sky! 

Contemporary Verse Antoinette De Coursey Patterson 

21 



S 



APRIL 

Even when all my body sleeps, 

I shall remember yet 
The wistfulness that April keeps. 

When boughs at dusk are wet. 

The haunted twilight on the lane; 

The far-oflP cricket's croon; 
And beautiful and washed by rain. 

The mellow rounded moon! 

So, underneath the waving grass. 

And underneath the dew, 
April, whenever you will pass. 

My dust will dream of you! 

The Argosy Louis Ginsberg 



THE LOCUST 

Your hot voice sizzles from some cool tree near by: 
You seem to burn your way through the air 
Like a small, pointed flame of sound 
Sharpened on the ecstatic edge of sunbeams! 



THE SQUALL 

It swoops gray- winged across the obliterated hills. 
And the startled lake seems to run before it: 
From the woods comes a clamor of leaves. 
Tugging at the twigs. 
Pouring from the branches. 
And suddenly the birds are still. 

Thunder crumples the sky. 
Lightning tears at it. 

22 



V 



And now the rain! 

The rain — thudding — implacable — 

The wind, reveUing in the confusion of great pines! 

And a silver sifting of light* 

A coolness: 

A sense of summer anger passing. 

Of summer gentleness creeping nearer — 

Penitent — tearful — 

Forgiven! 

CRICKETS AT DAWN 

All night the crickets chirp. 

Like little stars of twinkling sound 

In the dark silence. 

They sparkle through the summer stillness 

With a crisp rhythm: 

They lift the shadows on their tiny voices. 

But at the shining note of birds that wake, 
Flashing from tree to tree till all the wood is lit — 
O golden coloratura of dawn! — 
The cricket-stars fade slowly. 
One by one. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Leonora Speyer 



THE CONFIDANT 

The wood is talking in its sleep. — 

Have a care, trees ! 

You are heard by the brook and the breeze 

And the Ibtening lake; 

And some of the birds are awake, 

I know — 

Green, garrulous wood; I trusted you so! 

Contemporary Verse Leonora Speyer 

23 



REBELS 

Stiff in midsummer green, the stolid hillsides 
March with their trees, dependable and stanch. 

Except where here and there a lawless maple 
Thrusts to the sky one red, rebellious branch. 

You see them standing out, these frank insurgents. 
With that defiant and arresting plume; 

Scattered, they toss this flame like some wild signal, 
Calling their comrades to a brilliant doom. 

What can it mean — this strange, untimely challenge; 

This proclamation of an early death? 
Are they so tired of earth they fly the banner 

Of dissolution and a bleeding faith? 

Or is it, rather than a brief defiance, 

An anxious welcome to a vivid strife? 
A glow, a heart-beat, and a bright acceptance 

Of all the rich exuberance of life. 

RebeUious or resigned, they flaunt their color, 
A sudden torch, a burning battle-cry. 
Light up the world," they wave to all the others; 
Swiftly we live and splendidly we die." 






Harper's, Magazine Louis Untermeyer 



FARMERS 

I watch the farmers in their fields 

And marvel secretly. 
They are so very calm and sure. 

They have such dignity. 

They know such simple things so well. 
Although their learning's small. 

They find a steady, brown content 
Where some find none at all. 

24 



And all their quarrelings with God 

Are soon made up again; 
They grant forgiveness when He sends 

His silver, tardy rain. 

Their pleasure is so grave and full 

When gathered crops are trim* 
You know they think their work was done 

In partnership with Him. 

Then, why, when there are fields to buy. 

And little fields to rent. 
Do I still love so foolishly 

Wisdom and discontent? 

Contemporary Verse WUliam Alexander Percy 



GREEN GOLDEN DOOR 

Green golden door, swing in, swing in! 
Fanning the life a man must live. 
Echoes and airs and minstrelsies. 
Love and hope that he called his. 
Fear and hurt and a man's own sin 
Casting them forth and sucking them in. 

Green golden door, swing out, swing out! 

Green golden door, swing in, swing in! 
Show me the youth that will not die. 
Tell me the dream that has not waked. 
Seek me the heart that never ached, 
Speak me the truth men will not doubt! 

Green golden door, swing out, swing out! 

Green golden door, swing in, swing out! 
Long is the wailing of man's breath. 
Short is the wail of death. 

The New Republic JeanneUe Marks 

25 



WHAT DO I CARE 

What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring. 

That my songs do not show me at all? 
For they are a fragrance* and I am a flint and a fire; 

I am an answer* they are only a caU. 

What do I care — for love will be over so soon — 
Let my heart have its say, and my mind stand idlj 
by. 

For my mind is proud, and strong enough to be silent — 
It is my heart that makes my songs, not I. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Sara Teasdale 



TRANSFORMATION 

Love, we have dipped Life's humble bread 
Into the stars' flame-bubbling springs; 

We've knelt before the Moon's white face. 

While around us whirred Night's purple wings. 

Love, we have trod the floors of Morn, 
And watched Dawn's reeling galleons die; 

The sunset's panoramic hills — 

Love, we have known them, you and I. 

Upon the battlements of Time 

We stood and heard Life's thunders roar: 
A million ticking years that swelled 

The crashing notes of millions more. 

Our hearts have germinated sweet 
To beauty through each golden hour; 

But now the bloom-time days are past. 
The stalk is fading with the flower. 

26 



And we shall seek earth's simple thmgs: 
A roof -tree small, a green-thatched fire — 

Come, Love, and lay your cherished dreams 
Beneath the touch of my desire. 

We could not climb the Infinite, 
The jagged heights were steep and long; 

For us child-wistf ulness and sleep — 
Old twilight memories and song. 

Love, is it here that we shall wend, 

Down homelit paths, grown gently wise? 

Perhaps your eyes, made glad of earth. 
Shall find the Key to Paradise. 

New York Times J, Corson Miller 



GAVOTTE IN D MINOR 

She wore purple, and when other people slept 

She stept lightly — lightly — in her ruby powdered 

slippers 
Along the flags of the East portico. 
And the moon slowly rifting the heights of cloud 
Touched her face so that she bowed 
Her head, and held her hand to her eyes 
To keep the white shining from her. And she was wise. 
For gazing at the moon was like looking on her own 

dead face 
Passing alone in a wide place. 
Chill and uncosseted, always above 
The hot protuberance of life. Love to her 
Was morning and a great stir 
Of trumpets and tire-women and sharp sun. 
As she had begun, so she would end. 
Walking alone to the last bend 
Where the portico turned the wall. 
And her slipper's sound 
Was scarce as loud upon the ground 

27 



As her tear's fall. 

Her long white fingers crisped and clung 
Each to each, and her weary tongue 
Battled always the same cold speech: 

** Gold was not made to lie in grass. 

Silver dints at the touch of brass. 

The days pass." 

Lightly, softly, wearily. 
The lady paces, drearily 
Listening to the half-shrill croon 
Leaves make on a moony Autumn night 
When the windy light 
Runs over the ivy eerily. 

A branch at the corner cocks an obscene eye 

As she passes — passes — by and by — 

A hand stretches out from a column's edge. 

Faces float in a phosphorent wedge 

Through the points of arches, and there is speech 

In the carven roof-groins out of reach. 

A love-word, a lust- word, shivers and mocks 

The placid stroke of the village clocks. 

Does the lady hear? 

Is any one near? 

She jeers at life, must she wed instead 

The cold dead? 

A marriage-bed of moist green mould. 

With an over-head tester of beaten gold. 

A splendid price for a splendid scorn, 

A tombstone pedigree snarled with thorn 

Clouding the letters and the fleur-de-lis, 

She will have them in granite for her heart's chill ease. 

I set the candle in a draught of air 
And watched it swale to the last thin flare. 
They laid her in a fair chamber hung with arras» 
And they wept her virgin" soul. 

The arras was woven of the story of Minos and Dic- 
tynna. 

28 



But I grieved that I could no longer hear the shuffle of 

her feet along the portico. 
And the ruffling of her train against the stones. 

The Dial Amy Lowell 



I, WHO LAUGHED MY YOUTH AWAY ^ 

I» who laughed my youth away 

And blew bubbles to the sky. 

Thin as air and frail as fire. 

Opals, pearls of such desire 

As a saint could but admire; 

Now as azure as a sigh, 

Then with passion all aglow — 

Golden, crimson, purple, gray 

Moods and moments of a day — 

Have been gay. 

Yea, 

As they. 

Sailing high. 

Sinking low; 

Even so 

I, 

Pierrot, 

Walking Paris in a trance. 

With my weary feet in France 

And my heart in Bergamo, 

Loved — and lost my laughing way. 

7, of course, have never had 
Any great amount of gold 
Other than my hubbies hold. 
Love? I have no loving 'plan 
As a guide to beast or man. 
Being neither good nor bad. 
Just a sort of sorry lad. 

Ainslee's Magazin? William Griffith 

29 



FRIMAIRE 

Dearest, we are like two flowers 
Blooming last in a yellowing garden, 
A purple aster flower and a red one 
Standing alone in a withered desolation. 

The garden plants are shattered and seeded. 
One brittle leaf scrapes against another. 
Fiddling echoes of a rush of petals. 
Now only you and I nodding together. 

Many were with us; they have all faded. 
Only we are purple and crimson. 
Only we in the dew-clear mornings. 
Smarten into color as the sun rises. 

When I scarcely see you in the flat moonlight. 

And later when my cold roots tighten, 

I am anxious for the morning, 

I cannot rest in fear of what may happen. 

You or I — and I am a coward. 
Surely frost should take the crimson. 
Purple is a finer color. 
Very splendid in isolation. 

So we nod above the broken 
Stems of flowers almost rotted. 
Many mornings there cannot be now 
For us both. Ah, Dear, I love you! 

Scribner*8 Magazine Amy Lowell 



80 



A FOREST RENDEZVOUS 

They said someone was waiting; 

And at the trysting oak 
Sudden enchanting voices 

Leaf-lightly spoke. 

Daylong she had been coming, 

And all the forest sang 
Of beauty: elfin-softly 

The bluebells rang. 

Nightlong she was in shadow. 

She who went away 
As the moon does in the silver 

Veils of day. 

I see no course to follow, 
Alas, nor where to find 
* The silver way she vanished. 
Being blind. 

The Smart Set WiUiam Griffith 



TO HER WHO PASSES 

Her footsteps fall in silent sands; 

Her hands are cool like growing leaves; 
The fingers of her hovering hands 

Touch lightly, pass; and time bereaves 
The benison of her caress 
Of peace, or pain, or bitterness. 

The kisses of her mouth like dew 
Rain gently down; if she has sinned, 

That she had sinned she never knew; 
Lightly she walks upon the wind. 

And like the wind she leaves no trace 

Upon the quiet of this place. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Maurice Browne 

81 



ALONE IN SPRING 

I never met the Spring alone before : 
The flowers, birds, the loveliness of trees. 
For with me always there was one I love — 
And love is shield against such gifts as these. 

But now I am alone, alone, alone; 
The days and nights one long remembering. 
Did other Aprils that we shared possess 
The hurting beauty of this living Spring? 

I never met the Spring alone before — 

My starving grief — this radiance of gold! . . • 

To be alone, when Spring is being born. 

One should be dead — or suddenly grown old. 

Contemporary Verse Caroline OiUinan 



WREATHS 

Red wreaths 

Hang in my neighbor's window. 

Green wreaths in my own. 

On this day I lost my husband. 

On this day you lost your boy. 

On this day 

Christ was born. 

Red wreaths. 

Green wreaths 

Hang in our windows. 

Red for a bleeding heart. 

Green for grave grass. 

Mary, mother of Jesus, 

Look down and comfort us. 

You too knew passion; 

You too knew pain. 

Comfort us. 

Who are not brides of God, 

32 



Nor bore God. 
On Christmas day 
Hang wreaths. 
Green for spent passion. 
Red for new pain. 

Poetry^ A Magazine of Verse Carolyn HUlman 



GESTURE 

My arms were always quiet. 

Close and never freed, 
I was furled like a banner. 

Enfolded like a seed. 

I thought, when Love shall strike me. 
Each arm will start and spring, 

Unloosen like a petal 
And open like a wing. 

Oh Love — my arms are lifted. 

But not to sway and toss. 
They strain out wide and wounded 

Like arms upon a cross. 

The North American Review Winifred Welles 



I CANNOT PUT YOU AWAY - 

I cannot put you away ; 
By night and day 
You come in a dream and cry, 
"It is I! It is I!'' 

I will rise and turn the lock 
Nor heed your knock, 
But rest for a night and day 
With you away. 

S8 



And then I will find release 
And empty peace, 
In silence that will not cry 
*'ItisI! It is I!" 

New York Sun Books and Herbert S. Gorman 

the Book World 



TACT 

Observant of the way she tola 

So much of what was true. 
No vanity could long withhold 

Regard that was her due: 
She spared him the familiar guile. 

So easily achieved, 
That only made a man to smile 

And left him undeceived. 

Aware that all imagining 

Of more than what she meant 
Would urge an end of everything. 

He stayed; and when he went, 
They parted with a merry word 

That was to him as light 
As any that was ever heard 

Upon a starry night. 

She smiled a little, knowing well 

That he would not remark 
The ruins of a day that fell 

Around her in the dark: 
He saw no ruins anywhere. 

Nor fancied there were scars 
On anyone who lingered there. 

Alone below the stars. 

The Yale Review Edvnn Arlington Rcbineon 

34 



SONNET 

Like wine grown stale, the street-lamp's pallor seeks 

The wilted anger of her scarlet lips. 

And bitter, evanescent finger-tips 

Of unsaid questions play upon her cheeks. 

She sways a little, and her tired breath. 

Fumbling at the crucifix of her mind, 

Draws out the aged nails, now dull and kind, 

That once were sharp loves hardening in their death. 

And so a dumb joy tips her sudden smiles 

At passing men who eye her wonderingly 

And hurry on because her face is old. 

They merely think her clumsy in her wiles: 

They know not that her face is dizzily 

At rest because old memories have grown cold. 

The Dial Maxwell Bodenheim 



DEPARTURE 



It's little I care what path I take. 
And where it leads it's little I care. 

But out of this house, lest my heart break, 
I must go, and off somewhere ! 

It's little I know what's in my heart, 
What's in my mind it's little I know. 

But there's that in me must up and start. 
And it's little I care where my feet go! 

I wish I could walk for a day and a night 
And find me at dawn in a desolate place. 

With never the rut of a road in sight, 
Or the roof of a house, or the eyes of a face. 

85 



I wish I could walk till my blood should spout. 
And drop me» never to stir again. 

On a shore that is wide, for the tide is out. 
And the weedy rocks are bare to the rain. 

But dump or dock, where the path I take 
Brings up, it's little enough I care. 

And it's little I'd mind the fuss they'll make» 
Huddled dead in a ditch somewhere. 






Is something the matter ^ dear/* she said. 
That you sit at your work so silently? " 
No, mother, no — 'twas a knot in my thread. 
There goes the ketUe — FU make the tea.** 

Ainslee*s Magazine Edna St. Vincent MiUay 



MY LONELY ONE 

Even as a hawk's in the large heaven's hollow 
Are the great ways and gracious of your love. 

No lesser heart or wearier wing may follow 
In those broad gyres where you rest and move. 

Most merciless, most high, most proud, most lonely —- 
In the clear space between the sky and sea 

Wheel her huge orbits, where the sea-winds only 
Wander the sun-roads of Immensity. 

Yet have I known your heart and of what fashion 
Your love, how great, how hardly to be borne — 

Your tenderness, too perfect for compassion. 

Your divine strength, too pure and proud for scorn. 

You are most beautiful; though it is given 
But few to find you, fewer still to keep 

Your high path through the solitude of heaven. 
My lonely one, your watch upon the Deep. 

36 



Now toward the gold glow of the sunset's splendour 
Veer your great vans — what haven in the west 

Now draws you — while the mellowing light makes 
tender 
Your dripping plumes — what islands of the blest? 

Lift me, O lift me up to you forever. 

Beautiful Terror! Let your sacred might 

Stoop to me here and save — O let me never 
Sink from you now to share a lesser flight ! 

Even as I pray my wings of longing fail me. 
And my heart flags. In solitude you move 

Down the night's shore : not praying shall avail me 
To lift me, fallen from your faultless love. 

The Freeman John Hall Wheelock 



MERELY STATEMENT 

You sent me a sprig of mignonette. 

Cool-colored, quiet, and it was wet 

With green sea-spray, and the salt and the sweet 

Mingled to a fragrance weary and discreet 

As a harp played softly in a great room at sunset. 

You said: "My sober mignonette 

Will brighten your room and you will not forget. " 

But I have pressed your flower and laid it away 

In a letter, tied with a ribbon knot. 

I have not forgot. 

But there is a passion-flower in my vase 

Standing above a close-cleared space 

In the midst of a jumble of papers and books. 

The passion-flower holds my eyes. 

And the light-under-light of its blue and purple dyes 

Is a hot surprise. 

37 



How then can I keep my looks 

From the passion-flower leaning sharply over the books? 

When one has seen 

The difficult magnificence of a queen 

On one's table. 

Is one able 

To observe any color in a mignonette? 

I will not think of sunset, I crave the dawn. 

With its rose-red light on the wings of a swan. 

And a queen pacing slowly through the Parthenon, 

Her dress a stare of purple between pillars of stone. 

The Bookman Amy LoweU 



THE ISLANDS 



What are the Islands to me, 
what is Greece, 

what is Rhodes, Samos, Chios, 
what is Paros facing west, 
what is Crete? 

What is Samothrace, 

rising like a ship, 

what is Imbros redning the storm-waves 

with its breast? 

What is Naxos, Paros, Milos, 
what the circle about Lycia, 
what, the Cyclades' 
white necklace? 

What is Greece — 
Sparta, rising like a rock, 
Thebes, Athens, 
what is Corinth? 

38 



What is Euboia 

with its island violets, 

what is Euboia, spread with grass, 

set with swift shoals, 

what is Crete? 

What are the islands to me, 
what is Greece? 



n 

What can love of land give to me 
that you have not — 
what do the tall Spartans know, 
and gentler Attic folk? 

What has Sparta and her women 
more than this? 

What are the islands to me 
if you are lost — 

What is Naxos, Tinos, Andros, 
and Delos, the clasp 
of the white necklace? 



Ill 

What can love of land give to me 

that you have not, 

what can love of strife break in me 

that you have not? 

Though Sparta enter Athens, 

salt, rising to wreak terror 

Thebes wrack Sparta, 

each changes as water, 

and fall back. 

39 



IV 

"What has love of land given to you 
that I have not?*' 

J have questioned Tyrians 

where *tbBy.«$i 

on the black ships,' "^--^-i^i,^ 

weighted with rich stuffs, *^'"'" 

I have asked the Greeks 

from the white ships, 

and Greeks from ships whose hulks 

lay on the wet sand, scarlet 

with great beaks. 

I have asked bright Tyrians 

and tall Greeks — 

"what has love of land given you?" 



And they answered — "peace. 



99 



But beauty is set apart, 
beauty is cast by the sea, 
a barren rock, 
beauty is set about 
with wrecks of ships, 
upon our coasts, death keeps 
the shallows — death waits 
clutching toward us 
from the deeps. 

Beauty is set apart; 
the winds that slash its beach, 
swirl the coarse sand 
upward toward the rocks. 

Beauty is set apart 
from the islands 
and from Greece. 

40 



VI 



In my garden, 

the winds have beaten 

the ripe lilies; 

in my garden, the salt 

has wilted the first flakes 

of young narcissus, 

and the lesser hyacinth 

and the salt has crept 

under the leaves of the white hyacinth. 

In my garden 

even the wind-flowers lie flat, 

broken by the wind at last. 



VII 

What are the islands to me 
if you are lost, 
what is Paros to me 
if your eyes draw back, 
what is Milos 

if you take fright of beauty, 
terrible, torturous, isolated, 
a barren rack? 

What is Rhodes, Crete, 
what is Paros facing west, 
what, white Imbros? 

What are the islands to me 

if you hesitate, 

what is Greece if you draw back 

from the terror 

and cold splendor of song 

and its bleak sacrifice? 

The North American Review Mrs. Richard Aldington 

41 



SEA SAND 



JUNE NIGHT 

O Earth you are too dear to-night. 

How can I sleep, while all around 
Floats rainy fragrance and the far 

Deep voice of the ocean that talks to the ground? 

O Earth, you gave me all I have, 
I love you, I love you, oh what have I 

That I can give you in return — 
Except my body after I die? 



n 



**I THOUGHT OP you" 

I thought of you and how you love this beauty. 
And walking up the long beach all alone, 

I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder 
As you and I once heard their monotone. 

Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me 
The cold and sparkling silver of the sea — 

We two will pass through death and ages lengthen 
Before you hear that sound again with me. 



in 



"oh day op pibe and bun" 



Oh day of fire and sun. 

Pure as a naked flame. 
Blue sea, blue sky and dun 

Sands where he spoke my name; 

42 



Laughter and hearts so high 
That the spirit flew off free» 

Lifting into the sky. 
Diving into the sea; 

Oh day of fire and sun 
Like a crystal burning. 

Slow days go one by one. 
But you have no returning. 



IV 



WHEN DEATH IS OVEB 

If there is any life when death is over. 

These tawny beaches will know much of me, 

I shall come back, as constant and as changeful 
As the unchanging, many-colored sea. 

If life was small, if it has made me scornful. 
Forgive me; I shall straighten like a flame 

In the great calm of death, and if you want me 
Stand on the sun-swept dunes and call my name. 

The Bookman Sara Teasdale 



SONG 

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten. 
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold. 

Let it be forgotten forever and ever — 
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old. 

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten 

Long and long ago — 
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall 

In a long forgotten snow. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Sara Teaadale 

4S 



ACHIEVEMENT 

When my young Soul went first to ride 

And take the air, 
I stitched a gown of finest words 

For her to wear. 
Lacy-white, and ribbon-tied 

With doting care. 

When next my Soul fared out, she wore 

Plain garb and grey; 
Close-buttoned from her chin to feet 

She rode away; 
Behind a double-bolted door 

Her finery lay. 

Now, when my Soul rides out, I fold 

With strictest care 
Each slightest garment stern away» 

And loose her hair; 
Godiva-shy, Godiva-bold, 

She takes the air. 

The Nation Florence Jenney 



AVE 

{Madame Olga Petrova.) 

The pomp of capitals long left to rust 

Glows in her flesh and her ironic eyes. 

Gazing on her, old pageantries arise 
Of queens and splendid courtesans, whose lust 
Was power to loot a peacock throne, or thrust 

Satraps to battle for their beauty's prize. 

Thus Theodora flaunted, and none otherwise 
La Pompadour and Lais gone to dust. 

44 



Her wit is a keen weapon wrought for war 

Against the grayness of democracy. 
No broadsword this, but a bright scimitar. 

Tempered in flame and edged with subtlety. 
Her art is life; in braver days than this 
She would have throned it with Semiramis. 

AinaUe^a Magazine Walter Adolphe Roberts 



ULITH, LILITH 

Lilithy Lilith wept for the moon : 

Its icy beauty troubled her sleep. 
Stirred and thrilled her breast with a tune 

Of crystal notes that fluttered the deep. 
Climbing up the tower of light. 

She sought the sound and followed the flame; 
Cold as snow, implacably white. 

The moon spun high and muttered her name. 

White as Adam's body of yore 

And like that flesh she never could thrill. 
Far and pale as Paradise door. 

The vision flooded meadow and hill. . . . 
She, the flame, the passionate flower. 

Awoke and cried for waking so soon. . . . 
In a glimmering, scented, sleepless bower, 

Lilith, Lilith wept for the moon. 

New York Sun Books and Herbert 8, Gorman ' 

the Book World 



45 



PORTRAIT OF A LADY 

Her eyes are sunlit hazel: 

Soft shadows round them play. 
Her dark hair» smoothly ordered. 

Is faintly touched with grey. 
Full of a gentle brightness 

Her look and language are : — 
Kind tongue that never wounded. 

Sweet mirth that leaves no scar. 



Her dresses are soft lilac 

And silver-pearly grey. 
She wears, on meet occasion. 

Modes of a bygone day. 
Yet moves with bright compQsure 

In fashion's pageant set. 
Until her world she teaches 

Its costume to forget. 



With score of friends foregathered 

Before a cheerful blaze. 
She loves good ranging converse 

Of past and future days. 
Her best delight (too seldom) 

From olden friends to hear 
How fares the small old city 

She left this many a year. 



(There is a still more pleasant, 

A cosier converse still. 
When, all the guests departed, 

Close comrades talk their fill. 
Beside our smouldering fire 

We muse and wonder late ; 
Commingling household gossip 

With talk of gods and fate.) 

46 



All seemly ways of living, — 

Proportion, comeliness. 
Authority and order, — 

Her loyal heart possess. 
Then with what happy fingers 

She spreads the linen fair 
In that great Church of Bishops 

That is her darling care ! 

And yet I dare to forecast 

What her new name must be 
Writ in the mystic volume 

Beside the crystal sea : — 
Instead of "True Believer," 

The golden quill hath penned, 
"Of the poor beasts that perish. 

The brave and gentle friend." 

Scribner'a Magazine Sarah N. Cleghom 



DOROTHY 



HER ETES 

Her eyes hold black whips — ^ 

dart of a whip 

lashing, nay, flicking, 

nay, merely caressing 

the hide of a heart — 
and a broncho tears through canyons 

walls reverberating, 

sluggish streams 

shaken to rapids and torrents, 

storm destroying 

silence and solitude! 

47 



Her eyes throw black lariats — 

one for his head, 

one for his heels — 
and the beast lies vanquished — 

walls still, 

streams still, 

except for a tarn, 

or is it a pool, 

or is it a whirlpool 

twitching with memory? 

II 

HER HAIR 

Her hair 
is a tent 

held down by two pegs — 

ears, very likely — 
where two gypsies — 

lips, dull folk call them — 
read your soul away: 
one promising something, 
the other stealing it. 

K the pegs would let go — 

why is it they're hidden? — 
and the tent 

blow away — drop away — 
like a wig — or a nest — 

maybe 
you'd escape 
paying coin 
to gypsies — 

maybe — 

in 

HER HANDS 

Blue veins 

of morning glories — 
blue veins 

48 



of clouds — 
blue veins 

bring deep-toned silence 

after a storm. 
White horns 

of morning glories — 
white flutes 

of clouds — 
sextettes hold silence fast* 

cup it for aye. 
Could I 

blow morning glories — 
could I 

lip clouds — 
I'd sound the silence 

her hands bring to me. 
Had I 

the yester sun — 
had I 

the morrow's — 
brush them like cymbals, 

I'd then sound the noise. 



IV 



HER BODT 



Her body gleams 
like an altar candle — 
white in the dark — 
and modulates 
to voluptuous bronze — 
bronze of a sea — 
under the flame. 

The Dial Alfred Kreymborg 



49 



TO OTHER MARYS 

Christ said» '* Mary, " as he walked within the garden 
The morning that he rose from death, calm and free 
of pain; 
The wounds in his hands and his side no longer burned 
him. 
He that once had been a man was a God again. 
Christ said, "Mary," as he walked within the garden. 

All in his triumphing, back from the dead. 
With the wind upon his cheek, while the world was new 
to him, 
"Mary" was the first name he ever said. 

The first Mary God chose, he looked about the world 
for her 
And saw her walking with the maids of Galilee; 
— She stood beside a clumsy-nailed cross above a 

hillside. 
And saw the babe on it she had held at her knee. — 
Christ praised another Mary whom the saints rebuked 
for wastefulness; 
For he understood them well, all Marys of his day, 
Yes, and of today, too, Marys staid and caring, 
Marys wild and home-loving — it was his way. 

Martha and Lazarus talked with Christ at supper-time, 

Martha and Lazarus, of crops and folk and wars; 
But while the food was cleared away, low by the door- 
step 

It was Mary spoke to him, when there were stars. 
Not of crops and gossip, not of work and neighbors — 

Christ and Mary talked about the wishing to be good 
And the easy falling, and the new beginnings. 

And the way the moon looked, low above the wood. 

Christ said, "Mary," as he walked within the garden; 

Startled, Mary Magdalene raised her tear-stained face. 
That was very long ago, in a far-off country. 

In a far-off country, and a foreign place. 

50 



Still each year at Easter-time do we think again of her. 
And the other Marys who are dead in the earth. 

Who are dead long ago, but who loved and tended him 
When our Lord was a man, and felt of tears and 
mirth. 

All the Marys of the world, let us pray together now, 

Mary Schwartz, and Mary Brown, and Mary 
Rosenstein, 
Little Mary Donnelly, Mary Holt and Mary Hull, 

Mary Olsen, Mary Morse, all in a line. 
Since it is the Easter- time, and little bells are ringing. 

Let us walk in still pride, with lifting of the head. 
For when he had risen from the grave, as all the world 
knows, 

"Mary" was the first name that God ever said. 

Contemporary Verse Mary Carolyn Daviea 



THEY THAT DWELL IN SHADOW 

They that dwell in shadow 

Perpetually roam 
In leagues of spectral meadow. 

By phantom miles of foam. 
Their lives are very weary. 

And yet they cannot die, 
Leave their sea-beaches dreary. 

Or change that bitter sky. 

They that dwell in shadow. 

They twitter like dry leaves 
In talk along the meadow. 

And none is glad, or grieves. 
They whisper, whisper only, 

And no man, save he dwell 
Beside those sea-waves lonely 

Knows what it is they tell. 

51 



ThejT that dwell in shadow 

Are neither good nor bad; 
Their hearts are like the meadow. 

Monotonous and sad. 
The world has died around them. 

The skies are blank above: 
I happened there and found them — 

Their whispers were of love. 

Howard Mumford Jones 
The Midland, 

A Magazine of the Middle West 



SONG OF A WOMAN WITH TWINS 

Oul Out Out 

When I was young and litUe, 

And thought only of the mealies and the aun 

And the wet whispering river water. 

How could I teU what would hefaU me — 

How could I know what should come to mel 

Why did the demons come? 

Why did they make me bear 

Two bodies at one birth? 

Ah, they were not like demons — 

They were like little helpless man-children. 

Little and hungry, with curling hands and feet. 

Like the son I hoped to bear! 

All the night I screamed 

And all the night I bore them — 

Why did the witch-man's drum, beating by my head. 

Why did the witch-man's charms, smelling strong with 

enchantment — 
Why did they not keep the demons 
From being bom to me? 
My father gave him cowries, 

52 



Cowries and a gun. 

Taken from a white man 
That he killed a year ago — 
Slowly, slowly, 
For good and lasting magic 
That the gun should shoot straight. 
None had such a gun ! 
And yet the demons came — 
At my right breast a demon. 
At my left breast a demon. 
Sucking, sucking. 

Oh, the little hungry mouths. 
Oh, the little curling hands. 
That they will drown tonight! 

OuJ Out Out 

When I was little and young. 

Tumbling laughing in the sunshine. 

How should I know what would come to mef 

How should I know what would befcdl mef 

Oul Ou! Out 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Myrtle Eberstein 



ASPHALT 

Light your cigarette, then, in this shadow, 
And talk to her, your arm engaged with hers. 
Heavily over your heads the eaten maple 
In the dead air of August strains and stirs. 

Her stone-white face, in the lamp-light, turns toward 

you; 
Darkly, with time-dark eyes, she questions you 
Whether this universe is what she thinks it — 
Simple and passionate and profound and true — 

53 



Or whether, as with a sound of dim disaster, 
A plaintive music brought to a huddled fall» 
Some ancient treachery slides through the heart of 

things — 
The last star falling, seen from the utmost wall • . . 

And you — what sinister, far, reserves of laughter. 
What understandings, remote, perplexed, remain 
Unguessed forever by her who is your victim — 
Victim, of whom you too are victim again? 

. . . Come! let us dance once more on the ancient 
asphalt: 
Seeing, beneath its strange and recent shape. 
The eternal horror of rock, from which, for ever. 
We toss our tortured hands, to no escape. 

The Dial Conrad Aiken 



TO A PERSIAN MANUSCRIPT 

Behind the high white wall 

There is always a garden — 

A lawn, close-clipped and pale. 

Studded with flowers; 

There they have placed a chair 

For the happy guest, 

And slim* high-bosomed maidens 

Bring flesh and figs and wine 

In bowls of peacock blue. 

Beyond the minaretted gate 

Go elephants in caravan. 

And horsemen ride through forest tracery 

Of gold and flowers 

To cities 

Arched and white against the sky. 

54 



These are windows 

Opening on a golden world — 

Blooming islands on a sea 

Of dim, dust-colored vellum. 

While the ripples — 

Painted rhythms. 

Sable characters — 

Bear challenge to the wit 

More potent still 

Than half-guessed imagery 

Of illumined page. 

And as the traveller without the wall 

Divines with thirsty heart 

The hidden flash of fountains. 

So to me, among these silent books. 

Is borne the cadence of a desert tongue. 

And beauty blossoms here 

Upon my knees. 

The Nation Ida O'Neil 



THE ROAD TO BABYLON ^ 

"How far is it to Babylon? 

— Threescore miles and ten. 

Can I get there by candle-light? 

Yes, and back again. " 

And while nurse hummed the old, old rhyme. 

Tucking him in at evening time. 

He dreamed how when he grew a man 

And travelled free, as big men can. 

He'd slip out through the garden gate 

To roads where high adventures wait 

And find the way to Babylon, 

Babylon, far Babylon, 

All silver-towered in the sun ! 

55 



He's travelled free* a man with men; 
(Bitter the scores of miles and ten !) 
And now face down by Babylon's wall 
He sleeps* nor any more at all 
By morning, noon or candle-light 
Or in the wistful summer night 
To his own garden gate he'll come. 
— Young feet that fretted so to roam 
Have missed the road returning home. 

Scrihner*8 Magazine Margaret Adelaide Wilson 



TIGER LILY 

Gray are the gardens of our Celtic lands. 

Dreaming and gray. 

Tended by the devotion of pale hands. 

On barren crags, or by disastrous sands. 

That night and day 

Are drenched with bitter spray. 

There rosemary and thyme are plentiful. 

Larkspur that lovers cull, 

Love-in-the-mist that is most sorrowful. 

Flowers so wistful that our teardrops start. • • • 

Scarcely one understands that regal, rare. 

Bravely the tiger lily blossoms there. 

Bravely apart. 

Our gardens ai^ enamored of the spring. 

Of silver rain. 

The cloudy green of buds slow-burgeoning, , 

The sorrow of last apple blooms that cling 

And are not fain 

To yield their fruit again. 

We do not long for tropic pageantry. 

Yet surge with love to see 

The tiger lily's muted ecstasy. 

Watered by mist and lashed by wind-blown rime, 

56 



She is no alien thing; but vivid, free* 
She has no heed for paler rosemary. 
Larkspur or thyme. 

It is in vain they worship her who knowi 

Pity nor pride. 

Their petals whirl down every wind that goes 

South to the palms or northward to the snows. 

Mourning they died 

So distant from her side. 

But the brave tiger lily blossoms on. 

Never to be undone 

Till the last rosemary and thyme are gone. 

Tattered by autumn storms, she will not fling 

Herself to sullen foes. The winter rain 

Alone can beat her down, to bloom again 

Spring after spring. 

Ainslee's Magazine Walter Adolphe Roberta 



THE DREAMERS ^^ 

We are the deathless dre&mers of the world. 
Errant and sad, our argosies must go 
On barren quests and all the winds that blow 

Lure us to battle where tall seas are hurled. 

When over us the last ninth wave has curled. 
We are renascent still. The gods bestow 
Madness that lifts us on the ebb and flow. 

The flags of our defeat are never furled. 

We were not born to find the golden fleece. 

Or win some white queen's love, or storm the stars. 

Yet, by great Pan, we were not born for peace! 

One prize is ours — beauty, time shall not slay: 
Terrible beauty from disastrous wars. 

Mystical beauty from the realms of fey. 

Ainalee's Magazine Walter Adolphe Roberts 

57 



THREE GIRLS ^ 

Three school-girls pass this way each day: 
Two of them go in the fluttery way 
Of girls, with all that girlhood buys; 
But one goes with a dream in her eyes« 

Two of them have the eyes of girls 
Whose hair is learning scorn of curl^^ 
But the eyes of one are like wide doors 
Opening out on misted shores. 

And they will go as they go to-day 
On to the end of life's short way; 
Two will have what living buys, 
And one will have the dream in her eyes. 

Two will die as many must. 
And fitly dust will welcome dust; 
But dust has nothing to do with one — 
She dies as soon as her dream is done. 

The Ceniury Magazine Hazel Hall 



APPARITION 

I walked my fastest down the twilight street; 

Sometimes I ran a little, it was so late. 
At first the houses echoed back my feet. 

Then the path softened just before our gate. 
Even in the dusk I saw, even in my haste. 

Lawn-tracks and gravel- marks. "That's where he 
plays; 
The scooter and the cart these lines have traced. 

And Baby wheels her doll here, sunny days. ** 
Our door was open ; on the porch still lay 

Ungathered toys; our hearth-light cut the gloam; 

58 



Within, round table-candles, you — and they. 

And I called out, I shouted, "I am come home!" 
At first you heard not, then you raised your eyes. 
Watched me a moment — and showed no surprbe. 

Such dreams we have had often, when we stood 

Thought-struck amid the merciful routine. 
And distance more than danger chilled the blood. 

When we looked back and saw what lay between; 
Like ghosts that have their portion of farewell. 

Yet will be looking in on life again. 
And see old faces, and have news to tell, 

But no one heeds them; they are phantom men. 
Now home indeed, and old loves greet us back. 
Yet — shall we say it? — something here we lack. 

Some reach and climax we have left behind. 
And something here is dead, that without sound 
Moves lips at us and beckons, shadow-bound. 

But what it means, we cannot call to mind. 

Har'per*8 Magaxine John Erskine 



FACES 

Four faces in the dark. 
Eight eyes aglow 
With the pale lunar spark 
Fireflies do show. 

Four brows, specter-white. 
Crowned with lambent hair;- 
Only in the blackest night 
Are these things there. 

Eight lips that question me. 
Moving to and fro; 
Quiet as shadows be 
On new-fallen snow. 

59 



Eight hands beckoning. 
Spindrift of the wind; — 
Past all mortal reckoning 
Are phantoms of the mind. 

Deep, return to deep again* 
And old dreams fade. 
Children, let me sleep again* 
Calm and unafraid. 

The OuUook Harold Trowbridge Ptdsifer 



ENDING 

A fitting benediction of words 

Stood, one by one, upon 

The warped threshold of your mouth. 

Dreams are wandering realities 
Stooping to pick stray roadside flowers 
And making silent boutonnieres : 
Silent drops of mockery. 
And since the flowers quickly die. 
Dreams must ever walk with closed eyes. 

Hearing you, the dream I held 
Opened its eyes and perished. 

The Dial Maxwell Bodenheim 



BRICK-DUST 

It's just a heap of ruin, 

A drunken brick carouse — 

This thing my spirit grew in 
That once was called a house. 

60 



An attic where I scribbled 

Through baking summer dajrs. 
While street-pianos nibbled 

At the patient Marseillaise. 

The spider-landlord squatted 

In a web of dinner-smells. 
And people slowly rotted 

In little gossip-hells. 

I hated all I learned there — 

And yet I could have cried 
For a little oil I burned there* 

A little dream that died. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Louisa Brooke 



WASHINGTON 

The white-walled Rome of an unwritten epic. 
Spreading like the waters of a new well run; 

Drinking at the lips of a clear green river 

Rising in the fountains and the wells of the sun! 

Nothing of imperial dust in her cellars. 
Nothing of the torn old tower and dome; 

Mistress of her clean white halls unhaunted — 
City of the sunrise, altar, and home ! 

City .of the sunrise hills unhaunted 

By the skulls of kings and the ribs of decay; 

Seeded in the earth like a clean deep tap-root — 
The granite in the oak of her boughs today! 

A white ship built in a cool green forest 

And launched with the green leaves fresh on her bow» 
Sun on her sails and foam on her anchors. 

Halfway out on her maiden trip now ! 

61 



The clean new Rome of an unwritten epic. 
Spreading to the borders of a universal dream; 

A white ship launched on a universal river. 

Steering for the sun at the mouth of the stream! 

The Nation Aloysius CoU 



TANGIBLES 

{Washington, August, 1918) 

I have seen this city in the day and the sun. 
I have seen this city in the night and the moon. 
And in the night and the moon I have seen a thing this 
city gave me nothing of in the day and the sun. 

The float of the dome in the day and the sun is one 

thing. 
The float of the dome in the night and the moon is 

another thing. 
In the night and the moon the float of the dome is a 

dream- whisper, a croon of a hope: "Not today, 
child, not today, lover; maybe tomorrow, child, 

maybe tomorrow, lover. " 

Can a dome of iron dream deeper than living men? 

Can the float of a shape hovering among tree-tops — 
can this speak an oratory sad, singing and red 
beyond the speech of the living men? 

A mother of men, a sister, a lover, a woman past the 

dreams of the living — 
Does she go sad, singing and red out of the float of this 

dome? 

There is . . . something . . . here . . . men die for. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Carl Sandburg 

62 



A REPUBLIC! 

Her faith abandoned and her place despised. 

Her mission lost through ridicule, hooted forth 

From the forum she erected, by cat calls. 

And tory sneers and schemes. Her basic law 

Scoffed out of court, amended at the need 

Of stomachology by the judges, or 

A majority of States, as it is said — 

Rather by drunks and grafters, for the time 

The spokesmen of the States, coerced and scared 

By Methodists with a fund to hire spies, 

And unearth women scrapes, or other sins 

With which to say : Vote dry, or be exposed. 

A marsh Atlantis drifting, towed at last 

By pirates into harbor, made a pasture 

For alien hatreds, greeds. A shackled press» 

And voices gagged, creative spirits frozen, 

Obtunded by disgust or fear. War only. 

Armies and navies speak the national mind. 

And make it move as a man; for other things 

Resistance, thought divided, ostracism, 

Or jail for their protagonists. At the mast 

The cross above the cross-bones, in between 

The starry banner. A people hatched like chickens: 

Of feeble spirit for much inter-crossing. 

Without vision and without will, incapable 

Of lusty revolution whatever right 

Is spit upon or taken. A wriggling mass 

Bemused and babbling, trampling private right 

As a tyrant tramples it, calling it law 

Because it speaks the majority of the mob. 

A land that breeds the reformer, the infuriate 

Will in the shallow mind,the plague of frogs 

That hop into our rooms at Pharaoh's will. 

And spoil our banquet dishes, hour of joy. 

A giantess growing huger, duller of mind. 

Her gland pituitary being injured ! 

The Nation Edgar Lee Masters 

63 



YOU TALK OP THIS AND THAT 

You talk of this and that, of that and this: 
Have you ever tried, since you've been over here» 
Just being a plain American, my friend? 

Have you ever lived in one of our little towns. 
Worked side by side with fellow-citizens 
And shared the ups and downs of life with them? 
Have you ever honestly striven to accept 
This country of ours that has accepted you? 
If you have not, what right have you to speak? 

Have you ever been upon our Western plains 

Waving with untold miles of ripened wheat? 

Have you known our mountains and our farms and 

forests. 
Our townships and our populated cities 
Or got into the inside of our life 
Built up through years of order, progress, law? 
If you have not, what right have you to speak? 

Do you think that what the Pilgrim Fathers sought. 

Yes, sought and/ot£n(2, was sought and found in vain? 

Is Washington a myth and name to you? 

Have you ever learned from Franklin's homely wisdom 

Or from the large humanity of Lincoln 

Or studied in the school of our great men 

From whom we draw our widening heritage? 

If you have not, what right have you to speak? 

You talk of this and that, of that and this: 
Have you ever tried, since you've been over here» , 
Just being a plain American, my friend? 
// you have not, what right have you to speak? 

The Outlook Harry Kemp 

64 



\ 



DEPORTED 

The transports move stealthily to sea — 

The sea so prone to take strange freightage eagerly — 

But this sad freightage even the sea disowns 

And lifts its storms and frowns in darker mood 

And never was a cargo more adrift . . . 

There are no ports, no country's flag, no waiting hands 

In any land on earth for it. 

Nor any home to take it in. 

And all the prisons are too proud. 

O Mayflower! Ships of Columbus! 

And frigates and vessels of wood and of steel. 

With your cargoes of gifts and your graces! 

O swift laughing sails like fluttering garments of girls 

Running down soft green slopes 

To a dance with their lovers at Fair time ! 

O all the brave prows that advance to these shores 

Like believers to the rail at communion ! 

Be blind! Turn away from those ships, from those 

spectres. 
Do not think these the cargoes we send out from our 

shores. 
These of the darkness, in the night, in secrecy. 
Under sealed orders ! 

O Liberty! Mother! with your head proudly erect 
And your regal brow confident 
And your uplifted arm 

Hailing far children of earth to your sheltering; 
O Liberty! Mother who nurses back to full strength 
The offspring of breasts that are empty. 
Who gives and who trusts and who welcomes in limit- 
less trusting! 
Do not look down at these ships as they pass — 
Purring like cats that are clawing their kill — 
Oh> do not notice ! 

The New York Sun Kathryn White Ryan 

05 



i 



THE TANKERS 

To Bombay and Capetown, and ports of a hundred 

lands, 
To Mombassa, Panama, and Aden on the sands. 
Red with rust and green with mould, caked with sodden 

brine. 
The reeling, rolling tankers sail Southward from the 

Tyne. 



Southward past the Cornish cliffs, cleft red against the 

clouds, ^ 
They snort and stagger onward with sailors in their 

shrouds 
To the spell of rolling seas and the blue of a windy sky 
While the smoke lies brown to leeward or the liners 

scurry by. 



Thrashing through a tearing gale with a dark green sea 

ahead. 
While the funnel clews sing madly against a sky of red. 
Foam choked and wave choked, scarred by battered 

gear. 
The long brown decks are whirling seas where silver 

combers rear. 



Swinging down a brilliant gulf with shores of brown and 

gray 
The snub-nosed, well-decked tankers slowly steam their 

way 
Up the straits to the Pirate Coast and dim harbors of 

the South 
Where they lie like long red patches by a jungle river's 

mouth. 

Contemporary Verse Gordon Malherhe HiUman 

66 



MARINERS 

Men who have loved the ships they took to sea. 

Loved the tall masts, the prows that creamed with 
foam. 
Have learned, deep in their hearts, how it might be 

That there is yet a dearer thing than home. 
The decks they walk, the rigging in the stars. 

The clean boards counted in the watch they keep — 
These, and the sunlight on the slippery spars. 

Will haunt them ever, waking and asleep. 

Ashore, these men are not as other men: 

They walk as strangers thrbugh the crowded street. 

Or, brooding by their fires, they hear again 

The drone astern, where gurgling waters meet. 

Or see again a wide and blue lagoon, 

And a lone ship that rides there with the moon. 

Harper* 8 Magazine David Morton 



INLAND 

People that build their houses inland. 
People that buy a plot of ground 

Shaped like a house and build a house there. 
Far from the seaboard, far from the sound 

Of water sucking the hollow ledges. 
Tons of water striking the shore. 

What do they long for, as I long for 
One salt smell of the sea once more? 

People the waves have not awakened. 
Spanking the boats at the harbor's head. 

What do they long for, as I long for — 
Starting up in my inland bcd» 

67 



Beating the narrow walls and finding 

Neither a window nor a door. 
Screaming to God for death by drowning! — 

One salt taste of the sea once more? 

Ainslee's Magazine Edna St. Vincent MiUay 



SEKHMET THE LION-HEADED 

In the dark night I heard a stirring, 
Near me something was purring. 

A voice, deep-throated, spoke: 

I litter armies for all easts and wests 

And norths and souths: 

They suckle my girl-goddess breasts. 

And my fierce milk drips from their mouths. 

The voice sang: 

I do not kill! I, Sekhmet the Lion-headed, I! 
But between my soft hands they die. 

I asked: 

O Sekhmet, Lion-headed one. 
How long shall warring be? 

And Sekhmet deigned to make reply: 

Eternally! 

Bold in my faith I grew: 

Dread goddess-cat, you lie! 
Warring shall cease! 
My God of love is greater far 
Than you! 

68 



How gentle was the voice of Sekhmet then: 

He of the Star? 

He Whom they called the Prince of Peace — 

And slew? — 

And slew again — and yet again? — 

Ah, yes ! — she said. 

And all about my bed 

The night grew laughing-red: 

Sekhmet I did not see 

But in that bleeding dusk I heard 

That Sekhmet purred. 

Contemporary Verse Leonora Speyer 



BINDLESTIPP 

Oh, the lives of men, lives of men. 

In pattern-molds he run; 
But there* s you, and me, and Bindlestiff — 

And remember Mary*s Son. 

At dawn the hedges and the wheel-ruts ran 
Into a brightening sky. The grass bent low 
With shimmering dew, and many a late wild rose 
Unrolled the petals from its odorous heart 
WhDe birds held tuneful gossip. Suddenly , 
Each bubbling trill and whistle hid away 
As from a hawk; the fragrant silence heard 
Only the loving stir of little leaves; 
Then a man's baritone broke roughly in: 

I've gnawed my crust of movldy bread. 

Skimmed my mulligan stew; 
Laid beneath the barren hedge — 

Sleety night-winds blew. 

69 



Slanting rain chills my bones. 

Sun bakes my sldn; 
Rocky road for my limping feet. 

Door where I can't go in. 

Above the hedgerow floated filmy smoke 

From the hidden singer's fire. Once more the voice: 

I used to burn the mules with the whip 

When I worked on the grading gang; 
But the boss was a crook, and he docked my pay — 

Some day that boss wHl hang. 

I used to live in a six by nine. 

Try to save my dough — 
Ifs a bellfvl of the chaff of life. 

Feet that up and go. 

The mesh of leafy branches rustled loud. 

Into the road slid BindlestiflP. You've seen 

The like of the traveller: gaunt humanity 

In stained and broken coat, with untrimmed hedge 

Of rusty beard and curling sunburnt hair; 

His hat, once white, a dull uncertain cone; 

His leathery hands and cheeks, his bright blue eyes 

That always see new faces and strange dogs; 

His mouth that laughs at life and at himself. 

Sometimes they shut you up in jail — 

Dark, and a filthy cell; 
I hope the fellows built them jails 

Find 'em down in hell. 

But up above, you can sleep outdoors — 

Feed you like a king; 
You never have to saw no wood. 

Only job is sing. 

The tones came mellower, as unevenly 

The tramp limped off trailing the hobo song: 

70 



Oood-bye, farewell to Omaha, 

K. C, and Denver , too; 
Put my foot on the flying freight. 

Going to ride her through. 

Bindlestiff topped a hillock, against the sky 
Showed stick and bundle with his extra shoes 
Jauntily dangling. Bird to bird once more 
Made low sweet answer; in the wild rose cups 
The bee found yellow meal; all softly moved 
The white and purple morning-glory bells 
As on the gently rustling hedgetop leaves 
The sun's face rested. Bindlestiff was gone. 

Oh, the lives of men, lives of men. 

In pattern-molds he run; 
But there* s you, and me, and Bindlestiff — 

And remember Mary*s Son, 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Edwin Ford Piper 



THE WANDERING JEW 

I saw by looking in his eyes 
That they remembered everything; 
And this was how I came to know 
That he was here, still wandering. 
For though the figure and the scene 
Were never to be reconciled, 
I knew the man as I had known 
His image when I was a child. 

With evidence at every turn, 

I should have held it safe to guess 

That all the newness of New York 

Had nothing new in loneliness; 

Yet here was one who might be Noah^ 

Or Nathan, or Abimelech, 

Or Lamech, out of ages lost, — 

Or, more than all, Melchizedek. 

71 



Assured that he was none of these, 
I gave them back their names agam. 
To scan once more those endless eyes 
Where all my questions ended then. 
I found in them what they revealed 
That I shall not live to forget. 
And wondered if they found in mine 
Compassion that I might regret. 

Pity, I learned, was not the least 
Of time's offending benefits 
That had now for so long impugned 
The conservation of his wits : 
Rather it was that I should yield. 
Alone, the fealty that presents 
The tribute of a tempered ear 
To an untempered eloquence. 

Before I pondered long enough 

On whence he came and who he was, 

I trembled at his ringing wealth 

Of manifold anathemas; 

I wondered, while he seared the world. 

What new defection ailed the race. 

And if it mattered how remote 

Our fathers were from such a place. 

Before there was an hour for me 
To contemplate with less concern 
The crumbling realm awaiting us 
Than his that was beyond return, 
A dawning on the dust of years 
H&d shaped with an elusive light 
Mirages of remembered scenes 
That were no longer for the sight. 

For now the gloom that hid the man 
Became a daylight on his wrath. 
And one wherein my fancy viewed 
New lions ramping in his path. 

72 



The old were dead and had no fangs. 
Wherefore he loved them — seeing not 
They were the same that in their time 
Had eaten everything they caught. 

The world around him was a gift 
Of anguish to his eyes and ears» 
And one that he had long reviled 
As fit for devils, not for seers. 
Where, then, was there a place for him 
That on this other side of death 
Saw nothing good, as he had seen 
No good come out of Nazareth? 

Yet here there was a reticence. 
And I believe his only one, 
That hushed him as if he beheld 
A Presence that would not be gone. 
In such a silence he confessed 
How much there was to be denied; 
And he would look at me and live. 
As others might have looked and died. 

As if at last he knew again 
That he had always known, his eyes 
Were like to those of one who gazed 
On those of One who never dies. 
For such a moment he revealed 
What life has in it to be lost; 
And I could ask if what I saw. 
Before me there, was man or ghost. 

He may have died so many times 

That all there was of him to see 

Was pride, that kept itself alive 

As too rebellious to be free; 

He may have told, when more than once 

Humility seemed imminent. 

How many a lonely time in vain 

The Second Coming came and went. 

73 



Assured that he was none of these, 
I gave them back their names agam. 
To scan once more those endless eyes 
Where all my questions ended then. 
I found in them what they revealed 
That I shall not live to forget. 
And wondered if they found in mine 
Compassion that I might regret. 

Pity, I learned, was not the least 
Of time's offending benefits 
That had now for so long impugned 
The conservation of his wits : 
Rather it was that I should yield. 
Alone, the fealty that presents 
The tribute of a tempered ear 
To an untempered eloquence. 

Before I pondered long enough 

On whence he came and who he was, 

I trembled at his ringing wealth 

Of manifold anathemas; 

I wondered, while he seared the world. 

What new defection ailed the race, 

And if it mattered how remote 

Our fathers were from such a place. 

Before there was an hour for me 
To contemplate with less concern 
The crumbling realm awaiting us 
Than his that was beyond return, 
A dawning on the dust of years 
Had shaped with an elusive light 
Mirages of remembered scenes 
That were no longer for the sight. 

For now the gloom that hid the man 
Became a daylight on his wrath. 
And one wherein my fancy viewed 
New lions ramping in his path. 

72 



The old were dead and had no fangs. 
Wherefore he loved them — seeing not 
They were the same that in their time 
Had eaten everything they caught. 

The world around him was a gift 
Of anguish to his eyes and ears. 
And one that he had long reviled 
As fit for devils, not for seers. 
Where, then, was there a place for him 
That on this other side of death 
Saw nothing good, as he had seen 
No good come out of Nazareth? 

Yet here there was a reticence. 
And I believe his only one. 
That hushed him as if he beheld 
A Presence that would not be gone. 
In such a silence he confessed 
How much there was to be denied; 
And he would look at me and live. 
As others might have looked and died. 

As if at last he knew again 
That he had always known, his eyes 
Were like to those of one who gazed 
On those of One who never dies. 
For such a moment he revealed 
What life has in it to be lost; 
And I could ask if what I saw. 
Before me there, was man or ghost. 

He may have died so many times 

That all there was of him to see 

Was pride, that kept itself alive 

As too rebellious to be free; 

He may have told, when more than once 

Humility seemed imminent. 

How many a lonely time in vain 

The Second Coming came and went. 

78 



So it goes. Some things we buy, some not. 

Tom Jefferson was proud of his radishes, and Abe 

Lincoln 
blacked his own boots, and Bismarck called Berlin a 

wilderness of brick and newspapers. 

So it goes. There are accomplished facts. 
Ride, ride, ride on in the great new blimps — 
Cross unheard-of oceans, circle the planet. 
When you come back we may sit by five hollyhocks. 
We might listen to boys fighting for marbles. 
The grasshopper will look good to us. 

So it goes • . . • 

Poetry t A Magazine of Verse Carl Sandburg 



FOR THE EIGHTH OF DECEMBER 

{The Birthday of Horace) 

This festal day, two thousand times returning. 
Should light fresh fires on all the altar-sods. 

His natal day! we should set incense burning. 
And call — if gods there were — upon the gods. 

We, his good friends, right joyous should demean us. 

Like Horace on the birthday of Maecenas. 

Eheu ! we lack all Persian apparatus — 
The wine, the nard, the rose's tardy bloom; 

No troops of saucy home-bred slaves await us» 
Nor polished silver in the fire-lit room; 

And as for lyres and lutes of sound convention. 

The H. C. L. forbids their very mention. 

76 



Around our board what cronies he'd find missing: 
No Tyndaris, no Cyrus — and no quarrel ! 

No Telephus with his tantalizing kissing. 
No Cervius droning his long-winded moral. 

No Thaliarch to push the lagging Massic ! 

What in our party, then, would he find classic? 

There is one thing would save us from disaster. 
And make our feast right worthy of the day; 

A fitting tribute to the lyric master — 
I mean, of course, an Ode by F. P. A. 

Give us but that; 'twere the whole celebration 

In Horace's and in our estimation. 

The Nation George Meason Whicher 



WALKERS 

A Child on the Street 

Strange that she can keep with ease 
A pace so free and fleet. 
When such relentless destinies 
Stalk at her feet. 

Strange she does not see the blur 
Where their shadows run 
With her footfall, sinister 
In the sun. 

Some are vague as shadow cast 
By clouds where long hills dip. 
And some sharp like the broken mast 
Of a drifted ship. 

Still with her incredulous tread 
Defying the darkened ground. 
She keeps a pace whose echoes shed 
Laughing sound. 

77 



And still close at her tripping heel 
The old shadows stir. 
Deepening as they steal 
Nearer her. 



A Very Old Woman 

She passes by though long ago 
Time drained the life out of her tread; 
She died then, yet she does not know 
That she is dead. 

Her footsteps are indefinite 

With sound, and who are dead should pass 

Sandaled as the wind when it 

Moves through the grass. 

Her shadow twitches on the walk. 
And who are not of life should run 
Shadowless as a lily's stalk 
In full day's sun. 

Yet these cling to her — stricken sound 
And shadow casting ragged stains; 
They drag behind her on the ground 
Like broken chains. 

It is silence mastering her tread. 
Darkness, insidious and slow, 
Blotting her imprint . . • but she is dead 
And does not knowj^ 

The New Republic Hazel HaU 



78 



OLD LIZETTE ON SLEEP 

Bed is the boon for me ! 
It's well to bake and sweep. 
But hear the word of old Lizette: 
It's better than all to sleep. 

Summer and flowers are gay. 
And morning light and dew; 
But aged eyelids love the dark 
Where never a light seeps through. 

What ! — open-eyed, my dears. 
Thinking your hearts will break? 
There's nothing, nothing, nothing, I say. 
That's worth the lying awake ! 

I learned it in my youth — 
Love I was dreaming of ! 
I learned it from the needle- work 
That took the place of love. 

I learned it from the years ' 
And what they brought about; 
From song, and from the hills of joy 
Where sorrow sought me out. 

It's good to dream and turn. 
And turn and dream, or fall 
To comfort with my pack of bones. 
And know of nothing at all ! 

Yes, never know at all . 
If prowlers mew or bark. 
Nor wonder if it's three o'clock 
Or four o'clock of the dark. 

When the longer shades have fallen 
And the last weariness 
Has brought the sweetest gift of life. 
The last forgetfulness, 

79 



If a sound as of old leaves 

Stir the last bed I keep. 

Then say, my dears: "It's old Lizette — 

She's turning in her sleep. " 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Agnea Lee 



UP CARR CREEK 

The ways of the world are a-coming — up Cyarrl 

Biled shirts and neckties. 

Powder-pots and veils, 

Pizen fotched-on liquor. 

Doctor-pills, and ails — 
Hit's a sight, all the brash that's a-coming — up Cyarr! 



The ways of the mountains are passing — up Cyarr ! 

Moonshine stills and manhood. 

Gear to weave and spin. 

Good old Reg'lar Baptists 

Preaching hell for sin. 
Far'well to the old ways a-passing — up Cyarr ! 



The ways of the world will be holding — up Cyarr! 

Sorry ways, the old ways. 

They've a call to go. 

Only, when you're grave-bound. 

Changing* s alius slow. 
Old folks will bide by the old ways — up Cyarr. 

The OuUook Ann Cobb 

(Of the SetOemerU School, 
Hindman, Knott County, Kentucky,) 
80 



THE WIDOW-MAN 

I've brung you my three babes, that lost their Maw a 
year ago. 

Folks claim you are right women, larnd, and fitten for 
to know 

What's best for babes, and how to raise 'em into Chris- 
tian men. 

I've growed afeared to leave 'em lest the house ketch 
fire again. 

For though I counsel 'em a sight each time I ride to 
town. 

Little chaps get so sleepy-headed when the dark comes 
down! 

A body can make shift somehow to feed 'em up of days. 
But nights they need a woman-person's foolish little 

ways 
(When all of t'other young things are tucked under 

mammy's wing, 
And the hoot-owls and the frogs and all the lonesome 

critters sing). 
You'll baby 'em a little when you get 'em in their gown? 
Little chaps get so sleepy-headed when the dark comes 

down! 

The OuUook Ann Cobb 

(Of the Settlement School, 
Hindman, Knott County, Kentucky.) 



KIVERS^ 

Yes, I've sev'ral kivers you can see; 

'Light, and hitch your beastie in the shade ! 

I don't foUer weaving now so free. 

And all my purtiest ones my forebears made. 

Home-dyed colors kindly meller down 

Better than these new fotched-on ones from town. 

81 



I ricollect my granny at the loom 
Weaving that blue one yonder on the bed. 
She put the shuttle by and laid in tomb. 
Her word was I could claim hit when I wed. 
"Flower of Edinboro' ** was hit's name. 
Betokening the land from which she came. 



Nary a daughter have I for the boon. 

But there's my son's wife, from the level land. 

She took the night with us at harvest-moon, — 

A comely, fair young maid, with loving hand. 

I gave her three — "Sunrise** and "Trailing Vine" 

And "Young Man's Fancy." She admired 'em fine. 



That green one mostly wrops around the bread; 
"Tennessee Lace** I take to ride behind. 
Hither and yon right smart of them have fled. 
Inside the chest I keep my choicest kind — 

Pine-Bloom,** and "St. Ann's Kobe" (of hickory 
brown). 

Star of the East" (that yaller's fading down!). 



« 



« 



The Rose? I wove hit courting, long ago, — 
Not Simon, though he's proper kind of heart — 
His name was Hugh — the fever laid him low — 
I alius keep that kiver set apart. 
Rose of the Valley, ** he would laugh and siay. 
The kiver*s favoring your face today ! '* 



it 



^In the Kentucky mountains for generations the sole outlet for 
the artistic sense of the women has been the weaving of woolen 
coverlets, many of them of elaborate pattern and rare beauty. 

The OtUlook Ann Cobb 

{Of the Settlement School, 
Hxndman, KnoU County, Kentucky.) 



82 



WHOA, ZEBE, WHOA 

Saddle me up the Zebra Dun — 

Whoa, Zebe, whoa ! 
Double-cinch the son of a gun — 

Whoa, till I bridle you, whoa! 
Foot in the stirrup, straddle him quick — 
Fitch and squeal and buck and kick — 
Take your gait or the spurs will prick. 

Lope along, you Zebra Dun. 



The boys are off for town tonight — 

It's a-riding. Zebra Dun ! 
Flaying poker and a-getting tight — 

Sift along, O Zebra Dun ! 
Bunch of girls at Brown's Hotel 
Knows the steps, and dances well — 
Rattlesnake Fete and his fiddle — 

Lope along, O Zebra Dun ! 



Lights of the town are a-shining clear — 

Run, you Zebra Dun! 
Last four weeks seems like a year — 

Run, Zebe, run ! 

Yipf yip, yi-yi, yi-yit 

Run, you old stiff-kneed grasshopper. 

You spiraUspined jackrabbit, youl 

A-ho, whoopeel 
Brown's Hotel we're bound to see. 
Swing them girls at the dance party, 
One-and-twenty on a moonlight spree — 

A-ho, whoopeel 

Whoa, Zebe, whoa ! 

Whoa, till I hitch you, whoa ! 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Edwin Ford Piper 

88 



CIRCUS 



SIDE SHOW 

Her scant skirt spreads above her knees. 
Her hands lie folded in her lap. 
She looks ahead» and does not shrink 
To see the mixed crowd nudge and gape. 

While dirty men with roving eyes 
Press close and whisper, ''Look! 
Tattooed wherever you can see! 
Say, she's a walkin* pitcher-book!" 

Madonna pricked upon her back 
Complacently she lets them view. 
And on the calf of one bare leg, 
Christ crucified — tattooed in blue. 

u 

GRAND ENTBY 

Monsters in trousers baggy and grey. 
With harness of scarlet and brass, 
Trunk looped to tail in rhythmic array — 
A frieze on a temple of Asia — pass 

Solemnly round the tan-bark track. 
The breasts of the sulky girl in red 
Perched on the leading elephant's back. 
Shake to the lurch of his ponderous tread. 

Then follows a bamboo palanquin. 
Borne by the camels' shambling strength. 
The fringes slap as, jolted within, 
A tawdry sultana reclines at full length. 



Forty dull clowns hobble awkwardly by. 
"Hey! That's my mother!" one leers. 
He points at the charmer, and then at his eye. 
And grins through his painted black tears. 

84 



m 

BINO-MABTEB 

Tethered to the canvas top 
Undulating shadows writhe — 
Snaky flags that seem alive. 
*' What an awful way to drop ! 
Look how high it is up there. ** 

— " Shucks ! They never get a fall. " 
** Who's that man in glossy black 
Satin knee-pants, and the coat 
Red as pepper, on his back?" 

— "He's Ring-Master. Hear um bawl, 
*All eyes on the center ring I 
Attention, please t Attention all! '" 



IV 
THE WATCHES AT THE ROPES 

Stretching her toes until they kiss 

The dizzy roof on her upward swing. 

Blindfolded, Marie makes a spring 

In faultless curve above the abyss. 

The man on another frail trapeze. 

Clipping the bar with supple knees, 

Catches her ankles. The nervous crowd 

Closes its eyes or gasps aloud. 

Watching from very far below. 

Hypnotized, as to and fro. 

The pendulum swings, till they leap apart. 

A mother's hand goes to her heart. 

A boy in uniform shouts or drones, 

** Soda-pop, candy and ice-cream cones I*' 

Attendants slouch by the ropes and wait. 

Unseen among them, watches Fate — 

His lips move, counting — his deep eyes stare 

Upward at Marie, Queen of the Air. 

Reedy^s Mirror ^ Vine McCasland 

85 



AUCTION: ANDERSON GALLERIES 



« 



Lot 65 : John Keats to Fanny Brawne. 
A beauty, gentlemen, and in the best 
Condition. Four leaves, scarcely pressed. 
What am I bid? Five hundred . . . Five . . . Come 

on. 
Who'll make it Six? Six hundred. . . .'* (Pmle and 
drawn, 
I dreamed forever in a sweet unrest 
Of your warm, lucent, million-pleasured breast) 
Six hundred . . . Now Six fifty . . . Are you done?" 



<< 



''Seven ... A half . . . Did I hear eight? . • . 
Eight . . . Eight . . . 

Who'll make it Nine?" (Would that I could survive 
The horrors of a brutal world, I hate 

AU men and women, saving one, alive,) 
"Nine fifty . . . Going . . . Sorry, sir; too late. 

Sold to this party for Nine sixty five. " 

The New Republic Louis Untermeyer 



THE LAWYERS KNOW TOO MUCH 

The lawyers, Bob, know too much. 
They are chums of the books of old John Marshall. 
They know it all, what a dead hand wrote, 
A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling. 
The bones of the fingers a thin white ash. 
The lawyers know 
a dead man's thoughts too well. 

In the heels of the higgling lawyers. Bob, 
Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers. 
Too much hereinbefore provided whereas. 
Too many doors to 'go in and out of. 

86 



When the lawyers are through 

What is there left. Bob? 

Can a mouse nibble at it 

And find enough to fasten a tooth in? 

Why is there always a secret singing 
When a lawyer cashes in? 
Why does a hearse horse snicker 
Hauling a lawyer away? 

The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue. 
The knack of a mason outlasts a moon. 
The hands of a plasterer hold a room together. 
The land of a farmer wishes him back again. 

Singers of songs and dreamers of plays 

Build a house no wind blows over. 
The lawyers — tell me why a hearse horse snickers 
hauling a lawyer's bones. 

The Dial. Carl Sandburg 



THE CIVIL ENGINEERS 

They stormed the forts of Nature, 

And marched with blast and drill 

On her bulwark cliffs and sapping swamps, 

Her strength against their skill. 

Though her torrents twisted their bridges 

Like the horns of a mountain ram 

And burst like a hungry tiger 

Through the buttressed walls of their dam; 

They threw out new spans like spiders. 
And copied the beaver's art. 
And broke the desert's slumber 
With bloom in its rainless heart. 

87 



They tunneled her snowy shoulders^ 
Or wriggled up like a snake. 
And laced her with iron girders 
Like a martyr lashed to a stake. 

And clove her spine-like ridges 
From isthmus shore to shore. 
And plied their mighty dredges 
As she let the landslides pour. 

She was harsh as a fickle mistress. 
And stem as an angered god. 
Then soft as the lap of a mother. 
As they conquered her great untrod. 

From the circles around the Arctics 
To Cancer and Capricorn, 
From the yellow streams of China 
To the base of the Matterhorn; 

They have vanquished their untamed Mother; 
Though she thunders volcanic guns. 
They force her to do their bidding. 
Like masterful rebel sons. 

Contemporary Verse Phcebe Hoffman 



INFERENTIAL 

Although I saw before me there the face 
Of one whom I had honored among men 
The least, and on regarding him again 
Would not have had him in another place. 
He fitted with an unfamiliar grace 
The coffin where I could not see him then 
As I had seen him and appraised him when 
I deemed him unessential to the race. 

88 



For there was more of him than what I saw 

And there was on me more than the ol(l awe 

That is the common genius of the dead. 

I might .as well have heard him: ''Never mind; 

If some of us were not so far behind. 

The rest of us were not so far ahead. " 

The Dial Edtoin Arlington Robinson 



RESEMBLANCE 

I have on mine no likeness 
To your fairy queenlike face. 

No sign in all my body 
Of any of your grace. 



I might have been a changeling. 
As well have been a son. 

As to grow up your daughter 
And look like anyone. 



But where your two breasts parted 
A small mark darkened you. 

And over my heart's beating 
I have the same scar too. 



A little seal and golden. 

Whereby it shall be known 
That you have shaped and borne me 

And stamped me as your own! 

Contemporary Verse Winifred Welles 

89 



THE LONG HILL 

I must have passed the crest a while ago 

And now I am going down. 
Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know — 

But the brambles were always catching the hem of 
my gown. 

All the morning I thought how proud it would be 

To stand there straight as a queen — 
Wrapped in the wind and the sun» with the world under 
me. 
But the air was dull, there was little I could have 
seen. 

It was nearly level along the beaten track 
And the brambles caught in my gown — 

But it's no use now to think of turning back. 
The resif of the way will be only going down. 

Poetry y A Magazine of Verse Sara TeasdaU 



THREE QUATRAINS 

THE CUP 

She said. "Lift high the cup!" 

Of her arm's weariness she gave no sign. 

But, smiling, raised it up 

That none might see or guess it held no wine. 

FOBGIVE ME NOt! 

Forgive me not ! Hate me and I shall know 
Some of Love's fire still burns within your breast! 
Forgiveness finds its home in hearts at rest. 

On dead volcanoes only lies the snow. 

90 




THE BOSE 

One deep red rose I dropped Into his grave. 
So small a thing to give so great a friend! 

Yet well he knew it was my heart I gave 
And must fare on without it to the end. 

Harper* 8 Magazine LiUa Cabot Perry 



I, WHO FADE WITH THE LILACS 

I, who fade with the lilacs 

And with the roses fade. 
Am sharing this hour with them 

Conferring in the shade. 



Life has not left the wonder 

With which it first began 
To make Pierrot a poet. 

In making him a man. 

It has not made a rainbow. 

In all the sorry years. 
But was a sailing glory 

Upon a sea of tears. 

Somehow life leaves one stranded 

On shores too near or far. 
Hitching, forever hitching 

Ships — shallops to a star. 

New York Sun Books and William Oriffiih 

the Book World 



91 



DUST 

What is dust? 
Ashes of love, charred letters, faded heliotrope. 
Rose petals fallen from a dead hand. 
Spiders, bats, deserted houses, crumbling citadels. 
And wheel ruts where vanished armies have passed. 

Is that all? 
Oh, dust is sun and laughter. 
Circuses* parasols, preening pigeons. 
Lovers picnicking by the roadside. 
And ragamuffins tumbling in the warm lanes. 
Dust is rainbow webs caught in sweet, hot smelling 

hedges. 
And it is dust that keeps my eyes from being blinded 

by the stars! 

Contemporary Verse Dorothy Anderson 



SONG IN THE KEY OF AUTUMN 

We are walking with the month 

To a quiet place. 

See, only here and there the gentians stand! 

Tonight the homing loon 

Will fly across the moon. 

Over the tired land. 

We were the idlers and the sowers, 

The watchers in the sun, 

The harvesters who laid away the grain. 

Now there's a sign in every vacant tree. 

Now there's a hint in every stubble field. 

Something we must not forget 

When the blossoms fly again. 



Give me your hand ! 

There were too many promises in June. 

Human-tinted buds of spring 

Told only half the truth. 

The withering leaf beneath our feet. 

That wrinkled apple overhead. 

Say more than vital boughs have said 

When we went walking 

In this growing place. 

There is something in this hour 

More honest than a flower 

Or laughter from a sunny face. 

The Century Magazine Scudder MidMeUm 



EXILE 

I have made grief a gorgeous, queenly things 

And worn my melancholy with an air. 

My tears were big as stars to deck my hair. 

My silence stunning as a sapphire ring. 

Oh, more than any light the dark could fling 

A glamour over me to make me rare. 

Better than any color I could wear 

The pearly grandeur that the shadows bring. 

What is there left to joy for such as I? 

What throne can dawn upraise for me who found 

The dusk so royal and so rich a one? 

Laughter will whirl and whistle on the sky — 

Far from this riot I shall stand uncrowned. 

Disrobed, bereft, an outcast in the sun. 

The North American Review Winifred Welles 



93 



EXILED 

Searching my heart for its true sorrow. 

This is the thing I find to be : 
That I am weary of words and people. 

Sick of the city, wanting the sea; 
Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness 

Of the strong wind and shattered spray. 
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound 

Of the big surf that breaks all day. 



Always before about my dooryard. 

Marking the reach of the winter sea. 
Rooted in sand and dragging driftwood. 

Straggled the purple wild sweet pea. 
Always I climbed the wave at morning. 

Shook the sand from my shoes at night. 
That now am caught beneath big buildings. 

Stricken with noise, confused with light. 



If I could hear the green piles groaning 

Under the windy, wooden piers. 
See once again the bobbing barrels, 

And the black sticks that fence the weirs; 
If I could see the weedy mussels 

Crusting the wrecked and rotting hulls. 
Hear once again the hungry crying 

Overhead, of the wheeling gulls; 



Feel once again the shanty straining 

Under the turning of the tide. 
Fear once again the rising freshet. 

Dread the bell in the fog outside, 
I should be happy ! — that was happy 

All day long on the coast of Maine. 
I have a need to hold and handle 

Shells and anchors and ships again. 

94 



I should be happy, that am happy 

Never at all since I came here. 
I am too long away from water; 

I have a need of water near. 

Ainslee's Magazine Edna St. Vincent MiUay 



THE WORKER 

Be quiety worker in my breast i 
You hurt me, pounding so! 

Day and night your hammer rings. 
What you build, I do not know. 

I am tired by your effort. 

I would like to be as still 
As the solitary sheep 

Scattered on the sunny hill. 

Stop your mad, insistent beating! 

Be less eager and more wise ! 
You are building nothing lasting. 

Let me rest and close my eyes. 

Harper* 8 Magazine Scudder Middleton 



A NATURE-LOVER PASSES 

{In certain parts of ths world the custom stiU prevails of 
telling the bees that a member of the family has died,) 

Bees, go tell the things he treasured — 
Oak and grass and violet — 
That although his life was measured 
He is with them yet! 

95 



Tell the wild rose and the clover 
That the earth has made him over! 
Tell the lilting, loitering stream 
He is sharer of its dream ! 
Whisper to the April wood 
Of his blending in its mood! 
Tell the wind his spirit flows 
In whatever path it blows ! 
Tell the thrush it draws its art 
From the rapture of his heart ! 
Bees, to his green shelter bring 
All of earth's bright gossiping : 
Tales of feather, flower, or fur; 
Sap up mounting; wings astir! 

Now we may no more attend him. 
Bid his loved wild things befriend him ! 

Harper* 8 Magazine Daniel Henderson 



HE DID NOT KNOW 

He did not know that he was dead; 

He walked along the crowded street. 
Smiled, tipped his hat, nodded his head 

To his friends he chanced to meet. 



And yet they passed him quietly by 
With an unknowing, level stare; 

They met him with an abstract eye 
As if he were the air. 



**Some sorry thing has come to pass," 
The dead man thought; he hurried home. 

And found his wife before her glass. 
Dallying with a comb. 

96 



He found his wife all dressed in black; 

He kissed her mouth, he stroked her head* 
** Men act so strange since I've come back 

From over there, " he said. 

She spoke no word; she only smiled. 

But now he heard her say his name. 
And saw her study, grief -beguiled. 

His picture in a frame. 

Then he remembered that black night 
And the great shell-burst, wide and red. 

The sudden plunging into light; 
And knew that he was dead. 

The Century Magazine Harry Kemp 



OVERHEAD 

When you and I are laid away 

In little boxes under grass. 
What will the townsmen say of us 

When overhead they smile and pass? 

^*She was a lovely, quiet thing 

Who kept her house so neat and gay. 

She was as much in love with life 
As she is satisfied today. " 

^*He was the brightest man we had; 

He kept us laughing till he died. 
It seemed he only had to speak. 

And we would chuckle at his side. " 

Then you and I will rap the boards 
And call in language of the dead — 

But there'll be nothing we can do 
To stop that chatter overhead. 

Harper's Magazine Scudder MiddleUm 

97 



TO E. T. 

I slumbered with your poems on my breast 
Spread open as I dropped them half read through 
Like dove wings on a figure on a tomb 
To see, if , in a dream they brought of you, 

I might not have the chance I missed in life 
Through some delay, and call you to your face 
First soldier, and then poet, and then both. 
Who died a soldier-poet of your race. 

I meant, you meant, that nothing should remain 
Unsaid between us, brother, and this remained — 
And one thing more that was not then to say : 
The Victory for what it lost and gained. 

• 
You went to meet the shell's embrace of fire 
On Vimy Ridge; and when you fell that day 
The war seemed over more for you than me. 
But now for me than you — the other way. 

How over, though, for even me who knew 

The foe thrust back unsafe beyond the Rhine, 

If I was not to speak of it to you 

And see you pleased once more with words of mine? 

The Yale Review Robert Frost 



THE YOUNG DEAD 

Ah, how I pity the young dead who gave 
All that they were, and might become, that we 
With tired eyes should watch this perfect sea 
Re- weave its patterning of silver wave 
Round scented cliffs of arbutus and bay* 

98 



No more shall any rose along the way» 
The myrtled way that wanders to the shore* 
Nor jonquil-twmkling meadow any more> 
Nor the warm lavender that takes the spray» 
Smell only of sea-salt and the sun. 

But, through recurring seasons, every one 
Shall speak to us with lips the darkness doses. 
Shall look at us with eyes that missed the roses. 
Clutch us with hands whose work was just begun. 
Laid idle now beneath the earth we tread — 

And always we shall walk with the young dead. — 
Ah, how I pity the young dead, whose eyes 
Strain through the sod to see these perfect skies. 
Who feel the new wheat springing in their stead. 
And the lark singing for them overhead ! 

The Vale Review Edith Wharton 



THE HOUSE AT EVENING 

{In Memory of T. F. B.) 

Across the school-ground it would start 

To light my eyes, that yellow gleam — 

The window of the flaming heart. 

The chimney of the tossing dream. 

The scuffed and wooden porch of Heaven, 

The voice that came like a caress. 

The warm kind hands that once were given 

My carelessness. 

It was a house you would not think 
Could hold such sacraments in things 
Or give the wild heart meat and drink 
Or give the stormy soul high wings 

09 



Or chime small voices to such mirth 
Or crown the night with stars and flowers 
Or make upon this quaking earth 
Such steady hours. 

Yet, that in storm it stood secure, 
And in the cold was warm with love. 
Shall its similitude endure 
Past trophies that men weary of. 
Where two were out of fortune's reach. 
Building great empires round a name 
And ushering into casual speech 
Dim worlds aflame. 

The Yale Review William Rose BenH 



HER WAY 

{In Memory of T. F. B.) 

You loved the hay in the meadow. 

Flowers at noon. 
The high cloud's long shadow. 

Honey of June, 
The flaming woodways tangled 

With FaU on the hUl, 
The towering night star-spangled 

And winter-still. 

And you loved firelight faces 

The hearth, the home — 
Your mind on golden traces, 

London or Rome — 
On quaintly-colored spaces 

Where heavens glow 
With his quaint saints' embraces — 

Angelico. 

100 



In cloister and highway 

(Gold of God's dust!) 
And many an elfin byway 

You put your trust — 
A crock and a table, 

Lpve's end of day, 
And light of a storied stable 

Where kings must pray. 

Somewhere there is a village 

For you and me, 
Hayfield, hearth, and tillage — 

Where can it be? 
Prayers when birds awake. 

Daily bread. 
Toil for His sunlit sake 

Who raised us dead. 

With this in mind you moved 

Through love and pain. 
Hard though the long road proved. 

You turned again 
With a heart that knew its trust 

Not ill-bestowed. 
With this you light the dust 

That clouds my road. 

The Yale Review William Rase Benit 



TO THE DEAD FAVOURITE OF LIU CH'E 

The sound of rustling silk is stilled. 
With solemn dust the court is filled. 
No footfalls echo on the fioor; 
A thousand leaves stop up her door. 
Her little golden drink is spilled. 

101 



Her painted fan no more shall rise 
Before her black barbaric eyes — 
The scattered tea goes with the leaves. 
And simply crossed her yellow sleeves; 
And every day a sunset dies. 

Her birds no longer coo and call. 
The cherry blossoms fade and fall. 
Nor ever does her shadow stir 
But stares forever back at her. 
And through her runs no sound at all. 

And bending low, my falling tears 
Drop fast against her little ears, 
And yet no sound comes back, and I 
Who used to play her tenderly 
Have touched her not a thousand years. 

The Dial Djuna Barnes 



THE CURSE 

On the cord dead hangs our sister. 
She of the wondrous lily feet. 
They have blasted our fragrant flower 
She shall curse them as is meet! 
Hold the broom in her dead hand — 
Raise her up until she stand. 
Backward, forward, sweep the room! 
Wealth and happiness and long life 
Sweeps she with avenging broom 
From the house where she was wife. 
Backward, forward, sweep the broom 
Sweeping doom, sweeping doom! 

Now the gods will surely punish — 
Surely pity the young bride. 
She was like a willow blossom, 

102 



It was springtime when she died. 
Hold the broom in her dead hand — 
Raise her up until she stand! 
She was always flower-gay 
Till they broke her smiling heart. 
In this house she would not stay — 
Take her up — let us depart. 

Poetry 9 a Magazine of Verse Elizabeth J, CoaUworth 



PLACE FOR A THIRD 

Nothing to say to all those marriages! 
She had made three herself to three of his. 
The score was even for them, three to three. 
But come to die she found she cared so much: 
She thought of children in a burial row; 
Three children in a burial row were sad. 
One man's three women in a burial row — 
Somehow made her impatient with the man. 
And so she said to Laban, *' You have done 
A good deal right: don't do the last thing wrong. 
Don't make me lie with those two other women." 

Laban said, No, he would not make her lie 

With any one but that she had a mind to. 

If that was how she felt, of course, he said. 

She went her way. But Laban having caught 

This glimpse of lingering person in Eliza, 

And anxious to make all he could of it 

With something he remembered in himself. 

Tried to think how he could exceed his promise. 

And give good measure to the dead, though thankless. 

If that was how she felt, he kept repeating. 

His first thought under pressure was a grave 

In a new boughten grave plot by herself. 

Under he didn't care how great a stone: 

He'd sell a yoke of steers to pay for it. 

103 



And weren't there special cemetery flowers. 
That once grief sets to growing, grief may rest: 
The flowers will go on with grief awhile. 
And no one seem neglecting or neglected? 
A prudent grief will not despise such aids. 
He thought of evergreen and everlasting. 
And then he had a thought worth many of these. 
Somewhere must be the grave of the young boy 
Who married her for playmate more than helpmate. 
And sometimes laughed at what it was between them 
How would she like to sleep her last with him? 
Where was his grave? Did Laban know his name? 

He found the grave a town or two away. 

The headstone cut with John, Beloved Husband, 

Beside it room reserved, the say a sister's, 

A never-married sister's of that husband. 

Whether Eliza would be welcome there. 

The dead was bound to silence: ask the sister. 

So Laban saw the sister, and, saying nothing 

Of where Eliza wanted not to lie. 

And who had thought to lay her with her first love» 

Begged simply for the grave. The sister's face 

Fell all in wrinkles of responsibility. 

She wanted to do right. She'd have to think. 

Laban was old and poor, yet seemed to care; 
And she was old and poor — but she cared, too. 
They sat. She cast one dull, old look at him. 
Then turned him out to go on other errands 
She said he might attend to in the village. 
While she made up her mind how much she cared — 
And how much Laban cared — and why he cared 
(She made shrewd eyes to see where he came in). 

She'd looked Eliza up her second time» 
A widow at her second husband's grave. 
And offered her a home to rest awhile 
Before she went the poor man's widow's way. 
Housekeeping for the next man out of wedlock. 

104 



She and Eliza had been friends through all. 

Who was she to judge marriage in a world 

Whose Bible's so confused up in marriage counsel? 

The sister had not come across this Laban; 

A decent product of life's ironing-out; 

She must not keep him waiting. Time would press 

Between the death day and the funeral day. 

So when she saw him coming in the street 

She hurried her decision to be ready 

To meet him with his answer at the door. 

Laban had known about what it would be 

From the way she had set her poor old mouth. 

To do, as she had put it, what was right. 

She gave it through the screen door closed between 

them: 
**No, not with John. There wouldn't be no sense. 
Eliza's had too many other men. " 

Laban was forced to fall back on his plan 
To buy Eliza a plot to lie alone in : 
Which gives him for himself a choice of lots 
When his time comes to die and settle down. 

Harper* s Magazine ^ Robert Frost 



LITTLE CARIBOU MAKES BIG TALK 

Boo-shoo! Boo-shoo! 

Me, Ah'-dek-koons, I mak'-um big talk. Ho! 

Me, ol' man; I'm got-um sick in knee 

In rainy wedder w'en I'm walk. Ugh! 

Me, lak moose w'at's ol', 

I'm drop-um plenty toot'! 

Yet I am big man! Ho! 

An' I am talk big! Ho! 

Hi-yeel Blow lak moose ol* mani 

Hoi 

Hoi 

105 



Hi-yit Liide Caribou him talk 
Lak O'-mah-ka-kee dose Bullfrog; 
Big mout\ big belly y 
No can fight! 

Ugh! Close mout*, young crazy buck! 

You stop council-talk. 

You go 'way council; 

Sit wit' squaw. 

You lak pollywog tad-pole: 

No can jump-um over little piece mud; 

Can only shake-um tail lak crazy-dam-fool! 

Keetch'-ie O'-gi-ma', big Presh-i-den', 

He got-um plenty t'oughts in head, good t'oughts; 

Me, Little Caribou, 

I'm got-um plenty t'oughts in head, good t'oughts. 

Yet Eenshun Agent Myers all-tam' saying : 

** Ah-dek-koons he crazy ol' fool!" 

Ugh! He crazy ol' fool! 



Keetch-ie 0-gi-ma long tam' ago was say in treaty; 

"All de Cheebway should be farmer; 

All will get from gov'ment fine allotment — 

One hundred-sixty acre each. " Ho ! 

Ho! Eenshun scratch-um treaty! 

Wats come treaty? Hah! 

Eenshun got-um hondred-sixty acre. 

But go-um too much little pieces; 

Pieces scattered over lake 

Lak leaves she's blow by wind. 

In tamarack swamp by Moose-tail Bay 

He got-um forty acre piece. 

In muskeg and in rice-field, 

On Lake of Cut-foot Sious, ten mile away. 

He got-um forty acre more. 

In sand an' pickerel weed, 

On Bowstring Lake, she's forty mile away, 

106 



He got-um forty acre more. 
Hondred mile away, on Lac La Croix, 
Were lumber-man is mak' big dam 

For drive-um log — an' back-um up water 

All over Eenshun allotment land — 

He got-um forty acre more, all under lake! 

How can be? 

Got-um land all over lake ! 

Got-um land all under lake ! 

For Eenshun be good farmer 

Eenshun should be good for walking under water! 

Should be plough hees land wit' clam-drag! 

Should be gadder crops wit' fish-net 

For Eenshun be good farmer 

Eenshun should be fish I 

Ugh! 

I have said it! 
Ho! 

Hi! Plenty-big talk! 
Ho! Ho! Ho! 

Poetry t A Magazine of Verse Lew Sarett 



THE CARRYING OF THE GHOST 

A Mes-qua-kie Ceremony 

[The Friends and the Mourners chant responsively.] 

Let the ghost of the brave be carried away. 
Let the ghost of the brave be carried away. 

Mourners, look up. 

Fasters, look up. 
You who have shed your blood, look up. 
You whose tears were not enough tO"iJhed, 

Look up, look up. '* 

/ 



We cannot look up. 
We cannot look up. 

A moon ago he died. 

A moon ago died the dutiful son. 

A moon ago died the faithful husband. 

A moon ago died the brave, the friend. 

His ghost is cold. 

His ghost is naked. 
Let the ghost of the brave be carried away. 

Mourners, look up. 

Fasters, look up. 

We cannot look up. 
We cannot look up. 

Mourners, fasters. 

Where is his ghost? 
In the Happy Hunting Ground 
Pursues he the game? 

Fights he in company with ancient warriors? 
Fights he in company with Hot Hand? 
Fights he in company with Cold Hand? 
Fights he with the ancient brave Mes-qua-kies? 

Mourners, fasters. 

Where is his ghost? 
Is he in the Happy Hunting Ground? 
Is he in the Happy Hunting Ground? 

At, ail Ai, ail Ai, ail 
Ai, ail Ai, ail Ai, ail 

Why is he not in the Happy Hunting Ground? 
Why is he not in the Happy Hunting Ground? 

Mourners, fasters. 

Have you not sent him? 

Mourners and fasters. 

Befriend him, befriend him. 

Moumefg a&d fasters. 

Befriend his ghostr 



Why is he not in the Happy Hunting Ground? 
Mourners and f asters, why does his ghost tarry? 
Why is it thin and cold and naked? 

He is 80 loved 

We cannot send him. 

He is so loved 

We cannot let him go, 

Ai, ail Ai, ail Ai, ail 

He stands outside 
The circle of the ghost-fire. 
He stands outside 
In the cold darkness. 
His soul is naked. 
He is cold, outside 
In the cold darkness. 
He fears the demons 
In the cold darkness. 
Lest they eat his soul 
In the cold darkness. 
Mourners and fasters. 
Befriend his ghost. 

He is son: we cannot send him. 
He is brother: we cannot send him. 
He is husband: we cannot send him. 
He is friend: we cannot send him. 

We cannot send him. 

We cannot let him go. 

If we send him. 

He comes back no mx)re. 

If he goes. 

He comes back no more. 

He is lonely and friendless. 
He has no companions. 
He sees his friends 
By the smoky ghost-fire. 
But they cannot see him. 

109 



He hears their voices 
Praise him by the ghost-fire 
But they cannot hear him 
When he replies. 

Thin is his voice: 

They cannot hear it. 
Send him to the Happy Hunting Ground, 
Where dwell his ancestors, 
Send him to the Happy Hunting Ground, 
Where dwell Hot Hand and Cold Hand. 

Ijong is the ghost-road: 
No one returns by it. 
Long is the ghost-road: 
He comes hack no more. 

Long is the ghost-road : no one returns by it. 
Long is the ghost-road : but all go over it. 
Long is the ghost-road : you will go over it. 
You will go over it, if you will send him. 

Long is the ghost-road: 
No one returns by it. 
Long is the ghost-road: 
He comes back no more. 

He wanders in the cold, beyond the ghost-fire. 
He picks up crumbs like a wolf in the cold. 
He has no horse: he can hunt no game. 

Long is the ghost-road. 

But all go over it. 

Long is the ghost-road. 

You will go over it. 

You will go over it 

If you will send him. 

Yes, we will send him. 
For we shall follow him. 
Yes, we will send him. 
For we shall not lose him. 

110 



Yes, we will send him: 
We shall all follow after him. 
We shall all follow after him. 
Wise, good, loving. 
Yes, we will send him: 
Make ready the horse. 
The new clothes, the feast. 

They will send him, they will send him. 

The mourners will send him, 

Make ready the horse, the new clothes, the feast. 

They will send him. 

They will send him. 
And they will follow after. 

Call the ghost carriers 

Call the ghost carriers. 
Bring no more wood to the smoky ghost-fire: 
The ghost goes on the long ghost-road. 
Bring no more food to the smoky ghost-fire: 
The ghost goes on the long ghost-road. 
Let the men who sit by the smoky ghost-fire 
No more praise him that he may hear. 
Let the men who sit by the smoky ghost-fire 
Rise up now and help to make ready 

Rise up and make ready. 

Make ready. 

Make ready. 

Rise up and make ready. 
The ghost goes on the long ghost-road. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse Nelson Antrim Crawford 



ELEGY BEFORE DEATH 

There will be rose and rhododendron 
When you are dead and underground; 

Still will be heard from white syringas 
Heavy with bees, a sunny sound; 

111 



Still will the tamaracks be raining 

After the rain has ceased, and still 
Will there be robbins in the stubble. 

Brown sheep upon the warm, green hill. 

Spring will not ail, nor autumn falter. 
Nothing will know that you are gone. 

Saving alone some sullen plowland 
None but yourself sets foot upon ; 

Saving the mayweed and the pigweed 
Nothing will know that you are dead — 

These, and perhaps a useless wagon 
Standing beside some tumbled shed. 

Oh, there will pass with your great passing 

Little of beauty not your own; 
Only the light from common water. 

Only the grace from simple stone ! 

Ainslee*8 Magazine Edna St, Vincent MiUay 



O, MY FRIEND* 

* This characteristic tribute by Mr. Masters to his friend 
William Marion Reedy was called forth by the latter's death 
in July. In his own way, which seems to me the right way, 
Mr. Reedy was a "discoverer" of poets — and i^Titers — 
through a sympathy and understanding unequalled among 
his contemporaries. He was no propagandist for any par- 
ticular theory or method or school of the art; but a pure lover 
of poetry with infinite unselfishness of the lover who praises 
the virtues of his mistress and genially tolerates her faults. 
His memory will long be honored and affectionately cherished 
by the poets of America — a monument he would most 
desired for his fame. — W. S. B, 



O, my friend. 

What fitting word can I say? 

You, my chum, 

112 



My companion of infinite talks. 

My inspiration. 

My guide. 

Through whom I saw myself at best; 

You, the light of this western country. 

You, a great richness. 

A. glory, 

A charm. 

Product and treasure of these States. 

Bill, I knew you had gone. 
I was walking down into town this morning. 
And amid the hurry of cars and the flash of this July sun. 
You came to me. 

At least the intimation came to me; 
And may it be you, 

That somewhere I can laugh and talk long hours with 
you again. 

Reedy*8 Mirror Edgar Lee Masters 



BEAUTY'S BURDEN 

I am weighed down beneath a clustering load 
Of fragrances, rich sounds and lovely shapes. 
Like one who toils along a doubtful road 
With the glad wealth of purple-glinting grapes. 
I seem to stagger from an ancient city 
With golden armor, swords, fierce jewels, rings, — 
Treasure that stirs deep memories with the pity 
Of fate-foiled heroes and forgotten kings. 
And then I dream I bear a love-ripe maiden. 
Whose folded eyelids flutter; and I thirst 
To touch her throat, her lips, till, rapture-laden. 
It seems at length as if my heart would burst. 
Yet, Beauty-faint, I would not lose one shade. 
Or note or scent that Beauty's hand hath made. 

The Farmer Charles Wharton Stork 

113 



STORM AND SUN 

O Love, now the herded billows over the holy plain 
Of the trampled sea move thunderously, and cast 

Their wrath on the dark shore — let us set out again. 
Let us make seaward, and be gone at last. 

Into the choiring, clashing, wild waste of waters strown 
Around us, — forward — forward — , and leave 
behind 

The little frets and the fevers, just we two alone. 
Heart-free, as once in days long out of mind! 

Forget the city and all its troubles, leave forever 
Our dusty ways! The Eternal 'round us rolled 

Shall n^ash us white of the little sins and fears that 
sever. 
Lave us, and leave us lovers as of old — 

Lovers as once in golden days gone by, till sorrow 
Fall from us like a robe, the martyrdom 

Of life on the daily rack: there shall be no Tomorrow, 
Nor Yesterday, but heaven and ocean. — Sweet- 
heart, come 

And on the swelling pillow of the Unbounded lean 
Your cheek, all fiery now — O let us press 

Forward, the changeful furrows of the flashing foam 
between. 
Our glowing bodies into the Loveliness! 

The waves shatter, the billows break us, the sullen wrath 
Of the surf beats down our foreheads. Line on line 

Rises the majesty of the sea to oppose our path 
With tingling bodies through the stinging brine; 

But in our jubilant breasts the embattled life at bay 
Exults fiercely for joy, the waves cry out 

And shout in answering joy, the salt and savage spray 
Showers our shoulders in the exuberant bout, 

114 



Where we press forward, laughing for lusty love, and the 
hollows 
Receive us and rise, the foam of the breaker's crest 
Unfolds like a flower and dies of its kiss, and subsides^ 
and follows, 
Laughing and loving, where our limbs have pressed: 

Till in the lustrous shadow of the last wave before us 
We bow, and from the rolling billow's might 

Lift glimmering eyelids up, while hearts and lips in 
chorus 
Mingle with winds and waters their delight. 

Far — far — where the sea-bird sinks weary wings at 
last 

Before the wrath of the wings of the wind, the sea 
Makes moan, the inconsolable, pale waters are aghast. 

And shudder with dread of their own immensity. 

They murmur with one another, the voice of their vast 
prayer 

Sinks down in supplication, and the sleep 
Of the Supreme is stirred to whispers everywhere — 

The dark and divine sorrows of the Deep. 

Where the heads of the sea were holy and lifted in wrath 
divine 
Now broods the silence, heaven holds its breath, — 
Where the feet of the winds made music far out to the 
lone sea-line, — 
The rapture and awe and silence as of death! 

Hark — how the lonely sea-bird screams above the 
surges 

And inland reaches! Now, far out, we roam 
The desert and dumb vast of the dread sea that urges 

Our fitful course far out beyond the f oam» 

115 



Toward the most pallid rim of cloudy noonday steering 
Steadily, while the fluent glooms and grave 

Lap us and lift, repulse, and pause — the wild and 
veering 
Will of the loving and reluctant wave. 

The sombre and immense breast of the huge sea 
Lifts in long lines of beauty, the supreme 

Bosom with its vast love ri^es resistlessly. 
And lapses in long lines into its dream. 

Lone to the last marge — lone — lone — lone — 
And void to where the huddled waters crowd 

The brim — along the floor of heaven's darkened 
throne 
Moves, like a ghost, the shadow of a cloud. 

Shadow and light pass over shifting, shine and shade 

Vanish and veer, upon the chilly rim 
Kindle like crowns the cloud-crests along the east 
arrayed 

And swords of flame, like swords of the seraphim. 

The floors of the sea catch fire, the eye of the world's 
light 
Dilates, and into a glory of glittering gold 
Break the pale greens and purples; the sun in heaven's 
height 
Unveils himself for all men to behold 



And all the world is a-riot, behind us and before. 
With fire and color — the heavens roll back their 
gloom, 
From zone to zone, from the zenith to the everlasting 
floor, 
Reaches one resonant and radiant room — 

116 



Light! — Light! The astounded, far fields of ocean 

shine 

Sheer gold and shimmering amber: where we take 

The lips of the wave with laughter your eyes are turned 

to mine. 

Sweetheart, your eyes that burn for beauty's sake. 

They tremble with happy tears and little words 
unspoken 
Trouble your lips; dumbly, dumbly we know 
Something starry and strange, that the world's wheel 
has broken. 
Come back to us out of the long-ago. 

Put out your hand. O cleave the clasp of the close wave* 
turning 

Its fire to flowers! Put out your hand, and move 
Forward into the radiant far reaches 'round us burning. 

Darling, as once in the old days of love. 

Our hearts drink the wrath and the wonder, the breath 
of the boundless spaces 

Hallows our foreheads, the exceeding might 
Of moving waters around us is music, and on our faces 

The glory of God is shed. His holy light! 

Reedy* 8 Mirror John Hall Whedock 



LINES FOR THE HOUR ^' 

If what we fought for seems not worth the fighting. 

And if to win seems in the end to fail. 
Know that the vision lives beyond all blighting 

And every struggle rends another veil. 

The tired hack, the eynie politician^ 
Can dim but cannot make us lose the goal. 

Time moves with measured step upon her mission. 
Knowing the slow mutations of the soul. 

New York Evening Post Hamilton Fish Armstrong 

117 



ON THE MANTELPIECE 

Audi Alteram Partem 

The roses and vines and the tall, straight, delicate 
poplars. 

Growing about a beautiful old sixteenth-century French 
chateau. 

One clear morning of autumn were strung with silver 
ropes of spider-web. 

And the cold, green grass with its butterfly leaves 

Was rimmed with white dew. 

From the tops of the poplars could have been seen the 
fields. 

Far away in the sunlight, sere and brown like a floor- 
ing — 

Out there sere and brown with the last of their summer 
music. 

A valet with a duster in his hand and on his forearm a 

dust cloth — 
He may have been Swiss, for he wore a loin-cloth of 

forest green — 
Entered a front room of the chateau and suddenly stood 

perfectly still there. 
Listening amid the decorous morning silence of the 

chateau 
To a loud> nasty, little foreign noise coming from some- 
where. 
He uttered a few words, straight as the poplars but far 

from being so delicate. 
Uttered them in a language of the Academy and of 

Fabre, 
Finding the language of Fabre adequate for what he had 

to say regarding a bug, 
Adding in the same language, ''What are you doing 

there under that rug?" 
And forward he strode and gave a quick 
Academic or dithyrambic or choric kick 
At the loose beautiful old marble (perhaps) brick. 

118 



And the Cricket on the Hearth, ^ 

For all its matutinal spontaneous mirth > 

And without time for a sigh 

That no poet was nigh 

To see him die. 

Was mashed — song and senses, back and belly — 

Into unpotted cricket jelly. 

And all the literary offspring of Boz, 

Boz who despised your sentimentality 

But doted on his own sentimentality 

(As the rest of us) — 

All the literary offspring of Boz 

Who despise sentimentality about a Dresden shep- 
herdess 

But dote on sentimentality about the toes of a cricket — 

The twentieth-century Bozzers, 

Successors to those nineteenth-century ones 

Who loved the domestic canary, and the owl if perched 
on a bookcase. 

And the pheasant with its young and its nest if well 
arranged on a table — 

Served sous cloche like mushrooms. 

The twentieth-century Bozzers, green and leafy with 
genius 

And ready to exude poetic gum at the bare mention of 
the natural. 

Laboring at the cult of the natural 

And therefore never natural themselves 

Because no cult is natural 

But is a saturated solution of self-consciousness. 

All the Neo-Bozzers must have wailed aloud 

At the sudden violent death 

Of the Cricket on the Hearth — 

A natural thing making natural music. 

Having been caught in an altogether unnatural place. 

But the valet lifted the little Dresden shepherdess from 

the mantelpiece 
And dusted her tenderly and put her back in her place. 
As the valet before him had done, 

119 



i 



As the valet after him would dust her tenderly and put 

her back m her place. 
But he held her awhile and at arm's length and looked 

at her. 
Smiled at her slippers and at the rose in her hand. 
Smiled at her hat tilted the way he had seen one. 
Thought of some one he loved and slipped his arm about 

her 
In advance of the coming dusk and counted the days to 

follow 
Before she should have fine things on her feet and her 

hair and her bosom. 

Then more briskly he went on with his dusting. 

The happier for the shepherdess as workman, lover and 

man. 
And none the worse for the happiness. 

One day the Marquis, loi^d of the chateau and gardens. 
White and slight and slim like the poplars about his 

birthplace. 
Paused before the shepherdess, thinking of the Marquise, 
Seeing her as she was in the days of their youth to- 
gether — 

Days now vanished forever beyond the brown fields of 

autumn. 
And all that day with a tenderer grace and an eye on the 

lost 
He watched her. 

One day the Marquise, catching sight of the shepherdess, 
Suddenly thought of something laid away in its freshness. 
Folded still sweet and fresh in its antique woodwork. 
It she would send as a gift to the dau^ter of the cur^ 
About to be married, a godchild. 

thie day the abb^, the scholar, brother of the Marquis, 
Walking gravely in the room with thoughts of his history. 
Wheeled angrily before the little Dresden shepherdess on 
the mantelpiece, 

120 



Bemembering Marie Antoinette and her acres of pastoral 

playground 
In the forest of Versailles near the Petit Trianon. 
Saw once more and more near him French follies and 

revolution. 
Went straight from the room and wrote more fiercely on 

avenging Time, 
Wrote on the work of France in the coming glory of the 

world. 

But all the valets mashed all the crickets 

Singing in the morning stillness of the beautiful sixteenth- 
century French ch&teau. 

And none of them as he dusted the shepherdess laid her 
in the nook of his arm 

And carried her out to the fields and set her up there with 
the crickets, 

Thinking the fields the place for the Dresden shepherdess. 

And none of them caught a cricket and brought it back to 
the ch&teau 

And dusted it and put it on the mantelpiece 

Or under the mantelpiece as the natural place for a cricket; 

And none of the valets, if he could help it, killed a cricket 
in the fields. 

But stepped over it carefully if tangled in the grass and 
unable to escape sudden death imder his feet. 

For the valets have nothing against the crickets in the 

fields 
Where nothing ends or defeats 
The music of the earth — 
Bead Keats! 

Glorious, undoctrined, undoctored spirit! 
Who sang of the grasshopper 

But who sang too of the Grecian urn on the mantelpiece 
(Or some equivalent of the mantelpiece) — 
Sang of the sentimental, artificial scene on the Grecian 

urn — 
More sentimental, more artificial, than the little Dresden 
shepherdess — 

in 



Sang of the artificial Greek heifer lowing at artificial 

Greek skies. 
Boundless poet of Nature 
But poet aJso of all that is beautiful 
In the bounded spirit of man — 

The most beautiful thing in that spirit being man's art. 

His art which is but little pictures 

To bring near him the beauty that is far away or 

beyond him. 
Whether it be the little Dresden shepherdess on the 

mantelpiece. 
Or the Grecian urn on its mantelpiece 
With its sentimental, artificial heifer lowing at the skies 
And at the mystery of sacrifice; or whether it be 
The little wooden crucifix, held before dying eyes. 
As the hope that, closing on earth. 
They will open in paradise. 

The Bookman James Lane Allen 



122 



THE YEARBOOK 

OF AMERICAN POETRY 

1920 



INDEX OF POETS AND POEMS 

PUBLISHED IN AMERICAN MAGAZINES 
AUGUST, 191d— JULY, 1920 

Anon. Moment Mystical, The Pagan, April-May; Pbbl- 
UDE TO A Pantomime, The Nation, May 1. 

Adams, Franklin P. Sono of Synthetic Virility, Harper*s 
Magazine, February; The Last Laugh, Hobace: 
Epode 15, Harper* a Magazine, December, 1919. 

Aiken, Conrad. Asphalt, The Dial, June. 

Aldington, Richard. An Earth Goddess, After the Ad- 
vance, 1917, The North American Review, January. 

Aldington, Mrs. Richard. The Islands, The North American 
Review, January. 

Alexander, Hall. Dreams for Freudian Analysis, The 
Pagan, April-May. 

Alwood, Lister Raymond. An Interlude, The Detroit 
Sunday News, May 2; Daphne (From the Spanish 
of Ruben Dario), The Detroit Sunday News, Novem- 
ber 12, 1919; To a Leaf, The Detroit Sunday News, 
May 9; White Bees, The Detroit Sunday News, Ma^ 9. 

Allen, Hervey. The Blindman, The North American Review, 
November, 1919. 

Allen, James Lane. On the Mantelpiece, The Bookman, 
September, 1919. 

Ailing, Kenneth Slade. Snow, Contemporary Verse, January; 
That Strange Thing, Contemporary Verse, May; 
Three Flowers, Contemporary Verse, May. 

Anderson, Dorothy. A Revenant, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919; Dust, Contemporary Verse, Novem- 
ber, 1919; Motley, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. I 

Anderson, Maxwell. Welcome to Earth, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919; Hylas, Contemporary Verse, 
April. 

Anderson, Robert Gordon. Leader of Men, Scribner's 
Magazine, February. 

Andrews, Mary R. S. The Oldest Angel, Scribner's Maga- 
zine, November, 1919. 

125 



Armstrong, Hamilton Fish. Lines fob the Hoxtb, The N. Y. 
Evening Poet, March 2. 

Auerbach, Joseph S. Invocation of season. The North 
American Review, November, 1919. 

Auslander, Jacob.' I Come Singing, The New RepubliCp 
March 24. 

Auslander, Joseph. Paint Me the Globt of a Fxtbrowed 
Face, The Sonnet, January-February. 

Austin, Mary. Black Pbaters, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
January; I do not Know, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, January; New-Mexican Love Song, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January; The Eagle's Song, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January; The Gbass on 
THE Mountain, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January. 

Avery, Claribel. The Wobds, Contemporary Verse, January. 



Baker, Helba. Without Beginning, Ainslee's Magazine, 
October, 1919. 

Baker, Karle Wilson. Acobns, The Yale Review, October, 
1919; Death the Highwayman, Contemporary Verse, 
January; Faibt Fibes, The Yale Review, Octob^, 1919; 
Gbay Days, The Yale Review, October, 1919; I Love 
the Fbiendly Faces of Ol\> Sobbows, Contemporary 
Verse, January; Leaves, The Yale Review, October, 
1919; Mobning Song, Contemporary Verse, January; 
Ovebhead Tbavellebs, The Yale Review, October, 
1919; Stabs, The Yale Review, October, 1919. 

Baldwin, Faith. My Sisteb's Sons, Contemporary Verse, 
June. 

Baldwin, Helen. The Boatmen on the Yanq-tse, The 
Century Magazine, April; The Cabtman of Kalgan, 
The Century Magazine, April; The Last Joubney, The 
Century Magazine, April; The Shephebd of Hanoeb- 
PAAB, The Century Magazine, April; The Wabbiob*s 
Bbide, The Century Magazine, AprU. 

Balmont, Konstantin. Evening Fields, Contemporary 
Verse, November, 1919. 

Barnes, Djuna. Pastobal, The Dial, April; To the Dead 
Favobitb of Liu Ch*e, The Dial, April. 

Barney, Danford. Finale, Scribner*s Magazine, December, 
1919. 

Bates, Katharine Lee. Cedab Hill, The North American 
Review, May. 

Barrett, Wilton Agnew. An Awakening, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, December, 1919. 

Baxter, Sylvester. Sea-Change, The N. Y, Sun, March 21. 

Bealle, Alfred Battle. The Adventubeb, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, May; Gbasses and Sand, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, May. 

126 



Becker, Charlotte. The Outsider, The Woman's World, 
November, 1919. 

Belknap, P. H. The Comfortable People, Atn8lee*s Maga- 
zine, April. 

Bell, Jessica. The First Snow, Contemporary Verse, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Bellamann, H. H. Concert Pictures, The Midland, A 
Magazine of the Middle West, May. 

Benedict, Bertram. Stealing the Kaiser's Stuff, The 
Nation, December 97, 1919. 

Ben6t, Stephen Vincent. Last Song of the Trojan Light 
Infantry, Ainslee*s Magazine, August, 1919; Under 
Green Trees, Ainslee's Magazine, January. 

Ben6t, William Rose. Accosted, The Yale Review, October, 
1919; Dust on the Plains* The Century Magazine, 
March; Her Wat, The Yale Review, October, 1919; 
The Long Absence (In Memory of T. F. B.)> The Yale 
Review, October, 1919; The House at Evening, The 
Yale Review, October, 1919; The Star, The Century 
Magazine, December, 1919; To Henrt J. Ford, Illus- 
trator of all Lang's Fairt Books, The Bookman, 
January; Travel^ The Yale Review, October, 1919; 
War and Death, The Yale Review, October, 1919. 

Berry, Elizabeth Bobbins. Our Unknown Dead, The Boston 
Transcript, June 5. 

Beecher-Gittings, Ella. The Price, Contemporary Verse, 
December, 1919. 

Birch-Bartlett, Helen. Belshazzar, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, February; Drift, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Epilogue, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Premonitions, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, February; Re-Encounter, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, February; Remembrance, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, February; The Bringer of Gifts, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, February. 

Bird, Stephen Moylan, The Red Cross Nurse, Contemporary 
Verse, December, 1919. 

Black, MacKnight. Moods, Contemporary Verse, December, 
1919; The West, Contemporary Verse, December, 1919. 

Blanchard, Ames. When Learning Palls, Contemporary 
Verse, June. 

Block, Ralph. After Rachmaninoff, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March. 

Bodenheim, Maxwell. Boarding-House Episode, The Dial, 
February; Ending, The Dial, February; Fifth Avenue, 
The Dial, February; To J. C, The Dial, February; 
Two Women on a Street, The Dial, February; Sonnet, 
The Dial, February; The Cloud Descends, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; When Fools 
Dispute. The Dial, February. 

127 



Boyesflon, Bayard. In the Forest, Aitulee*s Magazine, April. 
Boyle» Virginia Fraeep. Henrt Mills Alden, Harper's 

Magazine, December, 1919. 
Bowman, Forrest. Consummation, The Detroit Sunday News, 

March 28; Le Reve, The Detroit Sunday News, Febru- 
ary 8. 
Bowen, Stirling. Impressions, The Detroit Sunday News^ 

May, 18; Nocturne, The Detroit Sunday News, June^ 

20; Revelation, The Detroit Sunday News, May 2; 

Sonnet, The Detroit Sunday News, December 21, 1919; 

Sonnet, (For G. B.), The Detroit Sunday News, Mardi 

21; Two Sonnets, The Detroit Sunday News, January 

18. 
Brackett, Charles. The Florist Shop, The Century Magazine, 

January. 
Bradford, Gamaliel. Hienelet, The Stratford Journal, 

October-December, 1919; Immortality, Contemporary 

Verse, November, 1919; Nil Extra Te, Contemporary 

Verse, November, 1919; The Clock, Contemporary 

Verse, November, 1919; The Touch, The Stratford 

Journal, October-December, 1919. 
Braley, Berton. Enchantment, Harper's Magazine, April; 

Renascence, Harper's Magazine, January; This Way 

Out, Harper's Magazine, November, 1919. 
Brewster, Margaret Cable. An Epitaph, Scribner's Magazine, 

May. 
Brody, Alter. Spring, The Dial, May. 
Brown, Abbie Farewell. But There are Wings, Contemr 

porary Verse, December, 1919. 
Brown, Alice. Enchantment, Contemporary Verse, June; 

The Trees, Harper's Magazine, February. 
Brown, Georgiana. Love's Old Charms, The Woman's 

World, April. 
Browne, Maurice. Love is More Cruel than Death, 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; To Her 

Who Passes, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 

1919; To MY Heart, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

October, 1919. 
Browne, Waldo R. The New Crusaders, The Nation, 

August SO, 1919. 
Brownell, Baker. Stones for Russia, Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse, October, 1919. 
Bryant, Louise. Russian Memories, The Dial, May. 
Bryher, Winifred. Episode, The North American Review, 

May. 
Bunker, John. Ballade of Faces Fair, Contemporary 

Verse, October, 1919; Twilight, Contemporary Verse, 

October, 1919. 
Burke, Frances M. Ambition, The Detroit Sunday News, 

May 2; Disconsolate, The Detroit Sunday News, May. 

US 



Burlingame» Roger. Intebval, Scribner's Magazine, May. 

Burt, Maxwell Struthers. All Night Through, Contemn 
porary Verse, September, 1919; Resurgam, Scribner*3 
Magazine^ August, 1919. 

Burton, Richard. Early Evening in April, The New 
Republic, May 12. 

Burr, Amelia Josephine. Blue Water, The Bookman, Febru- 
ary; Certainty Enough, The Outlook, September 24, 
1919; The Rainy Day, Contemporary Verse, May; 
The Victor, The Outlook, March 31; To a Scarlet 
Lizard, The Outlook, January 7. 

Burr, Louis. Portrait, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. 

Bynner, Witter. A Chanty, Contemporary Verse, February; 
A Landscape (From the French of Charles Vildrac), 
The Outlook, April 21; An Inn (From the French of 
Charles Vildrac), The Dial, April; Castle in Spain, 
The Dial, April; Carvings of Cathay, The New 
Republic, January 28; Chinese Drawings, The Nation, 
September 20, 1919; Grass-Tops, Poetry, A Magazine 
rf Verse, March; Pittsburgh, The New Republic, 
January 21; Rain, The Nation, May 22; Remembering 
Jack London, Contemporary Verse, February; Six 
Poems from the Chinese, The Outlook, June 30; 
The Sand-Piper, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; 
To a Friend in California, The Nation, November 
29, 1919; To a Volunteer, The^ Nation, August 23, 
1919; To BE A Man (From the French of Charles 
Vildrac), The Dial, April; When You Told Me of an 
Eagle, The Dial, April; Wise Men, Contemporary 
Verse, February. 

Campbell, Graham. Consumer, The Outlook, November 26, 

1919. 
Campbell, Nancy. The Mother, Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse, March. 
Cann, Loube Gebhard. Sonnet, Nora May French, in 

Memoriam, Ainslee's Magazine, November, 1919. 
Carlin, Francis. The Lamb, The Catholic World, February; 

The Symbolists, The New Republic, January 14; 

Were You to be Out, The Catholic World, June. 
Carnevali, Emanuel. The Day of Summer, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, September, 1919. 
Cartach, Sn. Dreams, The New Republic, March 10. 
Carrall, Godwin Trezevant. Your Voice, Poetry, A Magazine 

of Verse, November, 1919. 
Catel, Jean. Images Vaines, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

March. 
Chain, Julia. There is Something, The Woman's World, 

March. 

129 



Chapin, Anna Alice. Fuel, Ainalee's Magazine, April. 

Chew, Samuel C. Homage to Thomas Hardt, The New 
Republic, June 2. 

Chilton, C. A. Mt Answeb, The Catholic World, October* 
1919. 

Clark, Badger. In the Hills, Scribner's Magazine, March; 
Pioneers, Scribner*8 Magazine, December, 1919. 

Clark, Jr., Charles B. The Old Camp Coffee-Pot, The 
OtUlook, June 9. 

Cleghorn, Sarah N. If I Forget Thee, Harper's Magazine, 
January; One Love, The Sonnet, September-October, 
1919; Portrait of a Ladt, Scribner s Magazine, Sep- 
tember, 1919. 

Clements, Colin C, Translator. Four Poems from the 
Japanese, The Stratford Journal, October-December, 
1919. 

Cline, Leonard Lanson. Memorial, The Detroit Sunday News, 
June 13; Wounded, The Detroit Sunday News, July 4. 

Cloud, Virginia Woodward. In Your Dream, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919; Whom the Gods Love, Contem- 
porary Verse, October, 1919. 

Coates, Arcnie Austin. Althea, at Her Window, Ainslee*s 
Magazine, August, 1919; Ballade of a Second- 
hand Book Shop, The Bookman, February; Ballade 
OF Ladies of the Printed Page, The Bookman, 
January ; Ballade of the Printed Page, The Bookman, 
January; Gifts, Harper's Magazine, November, 1919. 
Trois Morts, Contemporary Verse, February. 

Coatsworth, Elizabeth J. Belated, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, December, 1919; Coming Events. . . The New 
Republic, December 24, 1919; Daibutsu, The New 
Republic, September 24, 1911); Light of Love, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; Love Tower, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; Old Trees, 
The New Republic, February 18; Park Gnomes, The 
New Republic, June 23; Spring in China, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; The Curse, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; The 
Apostate Gtpst, Contemporary Verse, January; The 
Gate, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, December; 1919; 
The Ghouls, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, December, 
1919; Rain Pageant, The New Republic, February 18. 

Cobb, Ann. Hospitality, The Outlook, May 19; Kivers, 
The Outlook, February 25; Up Carr Creek, The Out- 
look, August 27, 1919; The Black Sunbonnet, The 
Outlook, May 12; The Widow-Man, The OuUook, 
January 14. 

Colahan, EUwood. Hand on a Harp, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, April; Pilgrimage, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April. 

130 



Coll, Aloysius. Fame, The OvMook, October, 29, 1919; Wash- 
ington, The Nation, September 27, 1919. 

Colum, Padraic. The Rune Master, The Nation, November 
8, 1919. 

Conkling, Grace Hazard. Love Song. Harper's Magazine, 
January; Sunset, Ainslee*8 Magazine, December, 1919. 

Conkling, Hilda. Gorgeous Blue Mountain, Contemporary 
Verse, May; Happiness, Contemporary Verse, May ; Hay 
Cook, Contemporary Verse, May; Humming-Bird, 
Contemporary Verse, May; Poems by a Child, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, July; Only Morning-Glory 
That Flowered, Contemporary Verse, May; Sea-Gull, 
Contemporary Verse, May; Shiny Brook, Contemporary 
Verse, May; The Lonesome Green Apple, Contem^ 
porary Verse, May; Tree Toad, Contemporary Verse, 
May. 

Corbin, Alice. Epitaph, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April; 
Go Touch the Silent Strings, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, April; I Saw the World go by. Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, April; Old Age, The Nation, 
March 2; Song, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April; 
Summons, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April. The 
Storm Bird, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April. 

Corlyn, Brael. Sunrise in Winter, Harper*s Magazine, 
December, 1919. 

Cornell, Agnes. Night Fall After Wind, The New Republic, 
January 14. 

Cowley, Malcolm. Against Nightingales (Siegfried Sas- 
soon's poems). The Dial, May; Barn Dance, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; Cages, The Strat- 
ford Journal, October-December, 1919; Danny, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; From a Young 
Wipe, The Pagan, April- May; Moonrise, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, November, 1919. 

Cook, Harold. Love Will Return, Contemporary Verse, 
April; On Reading Your Play, Contemporary Verse, 
April. 

Cook, John Orth. A Prayer, Contemporary Verse, September, 
1919. 

Cooke, Edmund Vance. Helen Keller* The Stratford 
Journal, September, 1919; Those Two, Harper's 
Magazine, December, 1919. 

Cooley, Julia. To Loneliness, Contemporary Verse, October, 
1919. 

Crane, Hart. My Grandmother's Love Letters, The Dial, 
April. 

Crawford, Nelson Antrim. A Field of Flax, The Midland, 
A Magazine of the Middle West, July- August, 1919; 
A Voice, The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, 
July- August 1919; Free, The Overland Monthly, 

131 



November, 1919; Hands, The Midland, A Magavine 
of the Middle West, July-August, 1919; Music, The 
Pagan, April- May; Pines, The Midland, A Magazine 
of the Middle West, July- August, 1919; Poplabs, The 
Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July-August, 
1919; The Apple Tree, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, July-August, 1919; The Blue Spruce, 
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July- 
August, 1919; The Catalpa, The Midland, A Maga- 
zine of the Middle West, July-August, 1919; The Jinkgo, 
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July- 
August, 1919; The Oak, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, July- August, 1919; Willows, The 
Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July-August, 
1919. 

Crocker, Bosworth. Wishes, The Bookman, April. 

Crowell, Grace Noll. The Blind Child, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919; The Little House, Con- 
temporary Verse, November, 1919; Youth, Contem- 
porary Verse, June. 

Cummings, E. E. Five Poems, The Dial, May; Seven 
Poems, The Dial, January. 

D. H. (Mrs. Richard Aldington). Hymen, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, December, 1919. 

Daly, S. J. James J. Friends, The Catholic World, March; 
The Beggar-Knight, The Catholic World, May. 

Damon, S. Foster. Kiri No Meijiyama, A Noh Drama in 
Japanese Syllabics, The Dial, February. 

Davies, Mary Carolyn. Fools, Ainslee's Magazine, April; 
Forest Dance, Contemporary Verse, April; I Pray 
You, Poetry, A Magazine of verse, September, 1919; 
In the Middle West, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
September, 1919; Sea Gulls, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, September, 1919; The Apple Tree Said, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; To a 
Great Man, Ainslee's Magazine, September, 1919; 
To Other Marys, Contemporary Verse, April; Young 
Love, Ainslee's Magazine, December, 1919. 

Davis, H. L. Baking Bread, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; From a Vineyard, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, June; In this Wet Orchard, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, June; October: "The Old Eyes," 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; Stalks op Wild 
Hay, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; The Market- 
Gardeners, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; The 
Rain-Crow, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; The 
Threshino-Floor, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; To the Riveb Beach, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, June. 

132 



D'Emo, Leon. Like a Cur on a Throne, The Century 
Magazine, November, 1919. 

Dehmel, Richard. A Group of Poems, Translated by 
Leonora Speter, The Stratford Journal^ September* 
1919. 

De La Selva, Salomon. Birches, Ainalee^s Magazine, Sep- 
tember, 1919; Unredeemed, Ainslee's Magazine, 
August, 1919. 

De Maupassant, Guy. The Bird-Catcher, Translated 
BY B. A. BoTKiN, The Stratford Journal, August, 
1919. 

Dell, Floyd. Sono, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 
1919. 

Derby, Jeannette. Land Breeze, The New Republic, Febru- 
ary 18; Ship Song, The New Republic, April 21. 

Deutsch, Babette. Noumenon, Contemporary Verse, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Dickins, Edith. The Nativity, Scribner's Magazine, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Dill, Mabel. Love, Contemporary Verse, March. 

Dodge, Louis. Evening, Scribner*s Magazine, May. 

Donnelly, S. J., Francis P. Memories of France, The Catholic 
World, November, 1919. 

Doughty, Leonard. Looming Isles, Contemporary Verse, 
September, 1919. 

Drachman, Julian M. Fire- Weed in the Forest, Con^ 
temporary Verse, November, 1919; Gargoyles, The 
Nation, April 24; The Fighter Prays, The Outlook, 
April 7. 

Dresbacn, Glenn Ward. Songs, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; Songs While the Appleblossoms Fall, Con- 
temporary Verse, May; Songs While the Leaves Are 
Falling, The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle 
West, September-October, 1919. 

Drinkwater, John. Thrift, The Yale Review, April; The 
Pledge, The Yale Review, April; To and Fro About 
THE City, The New Republic, March 31. 

Driscoll, Louise. I go but my Heart Stays, Contemporary 
Verse, April; Premonition, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, March; Spring Thoughts, Contemporary Verse, 
April; The Heretic, Contemporary Verse, April; 
Treasure, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919. 

Dudley, Helen. Against the Sun, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, May; Cootham Lane, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, May. 

£., A. (George Russell). Michael, The Dial, March. 
Eastman, Mabel Hilly er. " Yet I am not for Pity," Harper* s 
Magazine, November, 1919. 

133 



Eberstein, Myrtle. Sono of Mocking fob an Old Woman, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; Song fob Shbed- 
DING Babk, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; Woman 
WITH Twins, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 

Eddy, Ruth Bassett. Love Athibst, The Pagan, AprU-May. 

Eldridge, Paul. An Epitaph, Contemporary Verse, January; 
My Yeabs, Poetry, A Magazine cf Verse, February; 
Night, The Stratford Journal, October-December, 
1919; O Diamond, Beautiful and Rabe, Contem" 
porary Verse, June; The Black Cat, The Stratford 
Journal, October-December, 1919; The Moon and 
the Ocean, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919. 

Embry, Jacqueline. White Buttebfly (Fob Janet — 
1918-19), Contemporary Verse, June. 

Emmet, Rosina H. Waiting, Scribner's Magazine, October, 
1919. 

Erskine, John. Appabition, Harper's Magazine, January; 
Kings and Stabs, The Nation, November 15, 1919. 

Ervine, St. John. To an Unknown Lady with Sombbe 
Eyes, The New Republic, January 21. 

Eyres, D. M. The Quiet House, Harper's Magazine, April. 

Farrar, John Chipman. A Compabison, Contemporary 
Verse, May; Lucile, Contemporary Verse, February; 
Pabenthood, Contemporary Verse, May; Wish, Con- 
temporary Verse, May. 

Fennell, Charles. Fighting Mickey Keefe, Contemporary 
Verse, June. 

Finley, John. A pictube op Old Age, Scribner's Magazine, 
October, 1919; And to Such as Play only the Bass 
Viol, Scribner's Magazine, February; To Flobence 
Nightingale, The Outlook, June 2. 

Fisher, Mahlon Leonard. In a Cemeteby, The Nation, March 
6; In Winteb, The Sonnet, January-February; No 
Weak Believeb I, The Sonnet, March- April; Relbnt- 
lessness. The Sonnet, March- April; The Bbothebs, 
The Sonnet, November-December, 1919; The Hills, 
The Nation, April 10; The Omnipbesent, The Sonnet, 
January-February; The Road Runs Fast, The 
Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, September- 
October, 1919; The Steadfast, The Sonnet, Novem- 
ber-December, 1919. 

Fletcher, John Gould. At the Tubn of the Yeab, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; Rain, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; The Black 
Rock, to Thomas Habdy, The Yale Review, July. 

Flexner, Hortense. Death Mask of an Unknown Soldieb, 
The North American Review, February; Fob a Piece 
OF Old Potteby, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. 

134 



Foster, Jeanne Robert. A Lament, Ainslee*8 Magazine^ 
March; Petition, Ainshe's Magazine, November, 
1919. 

Fox, Paul Hervey. The Captains op the Cobsican, a Bal- 
lade, Ainslee's Magazine, April. 

Fraley, Frederick. Testimony, Contemporary Verse. Novem- 
ber, 1919. 

Frank, Florence Kiper. Birthday, Contemporary Verse, 
January; Mothebs of the World, Contemporary 
Verse, January; Soldier, Contemporary Verse, January. 

Frazee-Bower, Helen. My Laijghteb, The Pagan, April- May. 

Frederick, John Towner. The Orchard, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, October, 1919 

Freeman, Joseph L. Gloria Mundi, The Nation, March 6. 

IVost, Robert. Fragmentary Blue, Harper's Magazine, 
July; For Once, Then* Something, Harper's Maga^ 
zine, July; Palge for a Third, Harper's Magazine, 
July; To E. T. (Edward Thomas), The Yale Review, 
April. 

Fujita, Jun. Tanka, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919. 

Galahad, Joseph Andrew. The Knife, The North American 
Review, May. 

Gale, Zona. The Secret Love, Harper's Magazine, October, 
1919. 

Galloway, Elizabeth Joan. The Theatre, Contemporary 
Verse, February. 

Garesch6, S. J., Edward. Niagara in Winter, The Catholic 
World, January. 

Garman, A. D. Yawp, The Pagan, April-May. 

Garnett, Louise Ayres. Ah's Marchin* on to Doomsday, 
The Outlook, June 2; Black and White, The New 
Republic, February 18; Hound at Night, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; How Long, 
Mass Jesus, How Long? The Outlook, May 5; Ivory 
Thumbs, The Outlook, July 21; Little Chief, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; Nigger Hea- 
ben. The Outlook, June 23; Outcast, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, December, 1919; Reflections, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; Song, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919; The Prodigal, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, December, 1919. 

Garrett, Clara Maude. Renewal, Ainslee's Magazine, 
March. 

Garrison, Theodosia. The Hosts of Mary, Scribner's 
Magazine, December, 1919. 

Gessler, Clifford Franklin. Free Russia, The Nation, August 
9, 1919; To a Girl on Roller Skates, Contemporary 
Verse, December, 1919. 

135 



Gibson, Wilfred Wilson. In Khaki» The Yale Review, October, 
1919; Medical Officer's Clerk, The Yale Review, 
October, 1919; Sentry Go, The Yale Review, October, 
1919; The Kittiwake, The Yale Review, October, 1919. 

Gidlow, Elsie A. At the Top of the World, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Never Any Feab, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919. 

Gilchrist, Marie Emile. En Route — The New England 
Express, The Nation, March 13. 

Giltinan, Caroline. Alone in Spring, Contemporary Verse; 
Bubbles, American Poetry Magazine; Enough, Ameri-- 
can Poetry Magazine; The Ball, The Catholic World) 
The Disguise, **The Stars and Stripes," December 13, 
1919; The First Christmas, The Catholic World, 
December, 1919; The Visitor, The Catholic World; 
Triumph, Contemporary Verse. 

Ginsberg, Louis. April, The Argosy, April 3; Old Houses, 
The N, Y, Times, January 9; Treasures, The Argosy, 
May 15. 

Glaenzer, Richard Butler. Dry-Point of Mrs. James Luce, 
Contemporary Verse, December, 1919; Nastxtrtium 
(Sonnetina). Ainslee*s Magazine, January; The 
Chinese Coat, The Bookman, April. 

Gordon, David. A Spring Rondel, Harper*s Magazine, 
April. 

Gorman, Herbert S. I Cannot Put You Away, The N, Y, 
Sun Books and Book World, January 18; Lilith, 
LiLiTH, The N. Y. Sun Books and Book World, February 
1; The Cabin in the Wood, The N, Y. Sun Books 
and Book World, February 15; The Fanatic, The 
N. Y. Sun Books and Book World, December 28, 1919. 

Granich, Irwin. Surrender, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June. 

Gray, Daniel W. Dust, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919; The Death of the Lizzie, Contemporary 
Verse, November, 1919. 

GriflGith, William. A Forest Rendezvous, The Smart Set, 
September, 1919; A Song of Pierrot, Ainslee*s 
Magazine, February; Adelina Patti, The N. Y. Sun 
Books and Book World, November 2, 1919; I, Who 
Fade with the Lilacs, The N, Y. Sun Books and 
* Book World, August 10, 1919; I, Who Laughed My 
Youth Away, Ainslee^s Magazine, August, 1919. 

Guiterman, Arthur. A Ballade Against Critics, Harper's 
Magazine, August, 1919; Home Again, The Outlook, 
November 26, 1919; How Lyrics Are Born, The 
Bookman, May. 

Halbrook, Nellie R. Toll, Contemporary Verse, May. 
Hall, Amanda. O Singer! O Singer! Poetry, A Magazine 

136 



of Verse, March; Storm, Contemporary Verse, July; 
The Dancer in the Shrine, Contemporary Verse, 
April; The Dish- Washer, Poetry, A Magazine ojf 
Verse, March; Values, Contemporary Verse, July; 
Waif, Contemporary Verse, January. 

Hall, Carolyn. Grey Moth, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Hall. Hazel. Captive, Harper* s Magazine, October, 1919; 
Locked Out, Ainslee's Magazine, March; Masks, 
The Nation, February 28; Needlework, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, April; The Little House, Harper* s 
Magazine, November, 1919; Songs for Dreams, 
Contemporary Verse, December, 1919; Three Girls, 
The Century Magazine. 

Haller, Malleville. In the Subway, Scribner's Magazine, 
June. 

Hammond, Eleanor. Beggar, Contemporary Verse, May; 
Chronometers, Contemporary Verse, May; Kisses, 
Contemporary Verse, May; Moribund, Contemporary 
Verse, May; The Mountain Brook, Contemporary 
Verse, May; Transition, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; Unfulfilled, Contemporary Verse, May; White 
Water, Contemporary Verse, May; Winter Woods, 
Contemporary Verse, January. 

Hanline, Maurice A. Drinks, Contemporary Verse, January. 

Hanley, Elizabeth. Conversion, The Bookman, April. 

Hardy, Evelyn. A Star, Scribner's Magazine, April. 

Hare, Amory. April, Contemporary Verse, August, 1919; 
August Moon, Contemporary Verse, August, 1919; 
"But There Was One Who Wore a Crown," 
Contemporary /erse, August, 1919; Blind, Contempo- 
rary Verse, August, 1919; By the Hearth, Contem- 
porary Verse, August, 1919; By the Window, Con- 
temporary Verse, August, 1919; Chanticleer, Con- 
temporary Verse, August, 1919; Moods, Contemporary 
Verse, August, 1919; Moon Magic, Contemporary 
Verse, August, 1919; Outside and In, Contemporary 
Verse, August, 1919; Remembered, Contemporary 
Verse, August, 1919; "So Slim, and Swift and Glad 
WAS She, *' Contemporary Verse, August, 1919; ** Shine, " 
Contemporary Verse, August, 1919; Sonnet I, Con- 
temporary Verse, August, 1919; Sonnet II, Contem- 
porary Verse, August, 1919; Surgery, Contemporary 
Verse, August, 1919; The Dead, Contemporary Verse, 
August, 1919; The Old Road, Contemporary Verse, 
August, 1919; Unsolved, Contemporary Verse, August, 
1919; Walking at Night, Contemporary Verse, 
August, 1919. 

Harper, Isabel Westcott. To the Gypsy Girl, Scribner*s 
Magazine, November, 1919. 

Haste, Gwendolen. Boot Hill Graveyard, The Midland, 

137 



A Magazine of the Middle West, September-October* 
1919. 

Hartley, Marsden. Gibl With the C Amelia Smile, Poetry 
MagoKine of Verse, May; Ebpanol, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, May; Saturday, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, May; The Abses' Out-House, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, May; The Festival op the Corn, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; The Topaz of 
the Sixties, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; 
To C , Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 

Hawkridge^ Emma. Hopi Sun-Christening, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, January. 

Hayne, William Hamilton. April, Scribner*s Magazine, 
May; Leaves, Ainslee's Magazine, January. 

Head, Cloyd and Gavin, Mary. The Curtains, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, April. 

Heideman, Miriam. After Death, The Detroit Sunday Netos, 
May 16; Sonq, The Detroit Sunday News, March 12. 

Henderson, Daniel. A Nature-Lover Passes, Harper's 
Magazine, August, 1919; Love and Ltre, Contempo- 
rary Verse, October, 1919; The Poet*s Path, Con- 
temporary Verse, December, 1919. 

Henderson, Rose. Night, Contemporary Verse, December, 
1919. 

Henderson, Ruth E. The Dark, The Nation, December IS, 
1919. 

Hendrix, Mrs. W. S. October's Child, The Texas Review, 
October, 1919. 

Hensel, Gladys. The Shepherd. Htmn, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, June. 

Hepburn, Elizabeth Newport. A Priestess op Apollo, 
Ainslee*s Magazine, January. 

Herold, Leon. Melancholy and Joy, The Detroit Sunday 
News, March 28; Youlia, The Detroit Sunday News, 
March 21. 

Hersey, Marie Louise. Contrasts. Contemporary Verse, 
April. 

Herron, Vennette. The Game, Ainslee's Magazine, April. 

if ewitt, Ethel M. Ivory. Harper's Magazine, November, 1919. 

Heyward, DuBose. The Mountain Woman, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, July. 

Heyward. Janie Screven. Dapfodii^, Contemporary Verse, 
April. 

Hickey, Emily. "Whose, Then, Shall Those Things 
Be?" The Catholic World, October, 1919. 

Hill, Frank Ernest. The Flyers, The Nation, January 10. 

Hillman, Carolyn. Sugar Mice, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, December, 1919. Wreaths, Poetry, A Maga* 
zine of Verse, December, 1919. 

Hillman, Gordon Malherbe. Sea Lure, Adventure, February 

138 



18; Spanish Linebb, The Boston Transcript, Novem- 
ber 12; The Siben, The Christian Science Monitor, 
June 26; I^be Tankers, Adventure. 

Hillyer, Robert. Ballade, The Dial, March. The Mibbors, 
The Sonnet, November-December, 1919. Vigil, The 
Sonnet, November-December, 1919. 

Hoffman, Phoebe. The Civil Enqineebs, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919; The Poet Finds Himself, 
Contemporary Verse, January. 

Holbrooke Weare. The Middle Yeabs, The Midland, A 
Magazine of the Middle West, April. 

Holden, Raymond. Sugabinq, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
July; Thompson Stbeet, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, January-February-March; To The 
Dead, New Yeab's Eve, 1919, The Midland, A Maga^ 
zine of the Middle West, Januarv-February-March. 

Holden, Raymond. Two Woblds, The Midland, A Maga- 
zine of the Middle West, January-February-March. 

Holt, Florence Taber. Flo webs. The Dial, February; The 
Wind op Love, The Dial, February; To Pan, Tne Dial, 
February. 

HoUaday, Paula. Memobt, Ainslee's Magazine, March. 

Housman, Laurence. To a Rideb Dbowned at Sea, The 
New Republic, May 26. 

Hoyt, Helen. Automobiles on Sunday, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March; By the Lake, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; Chicago, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; 
Cbeatob, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; En- 
couNTEB, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; Head- 
stone, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; Night, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; Rock and Sea» 
The Stratford Journal, September, 1919; The Fibst 
Time I Loved, Ainslee's Magazine, February; The 
Stone- Age Sea, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; 
Thebe Was a Time, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; When We Abe Asleep, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March. 

Hoyt, Henry Martyn. The Ballad Mongeb, The Outlook, 
July 7. 

Howe, Susanne. The Sanatobiubi« Contemporary Verse, 
February. 

Howell, Lucile Topping. Little Motheb with Snow- 
White Haib, The Woman's World, May. 

Hooke, Hilda M. The Vagabond, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919. 

HucklBeld, Leyland. A Winteb Gale, Contemporary Verse, 
February; The Singing Skull, Contemporary Verse, 
December, 1919. 

Huddleston, Mabel Barker. The Roop-Gabdbn, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, May. 

139 



Hughes, Glenn. Revelation, Ainslee*s Magazine, May. 
Hunter, Isabel Robins. (By a child of thirteen.) The Attack 
ON THE Harem, The New York Times, May 9. 



J., S. V. L'Eglise a Collioube, Stars and Stripes, January 10. 

Jackson, Leroy F. Charley, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, July- August, 1919; Sunday, The 
Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July-August, 
1919; The Coyote, The Midland, A Magazine of the 
Middle West, July- August, 1919. 

Jenkins, Oliver. Livin*? The Open Road, March; On and On, 
The Boston Transcript, November 12, 1919; Sparks, 
The Boston Transcript, December 24, 1919; The Old 
Cathedral, The Boston Transcript, December IS, 
1919; Tinsel, The Boston Transcript, November 15, 
1919. 

Jenney, Florence G. Sonnet, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, April. 

Jennings, Leslie Nelson. Bars, Ainslee's Magazine, October, 
1919; Come with Your Flute, Ainslee*s Magazine, 
February; Gossip, Ainslee*s Magazine, January; 
Rutherford, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919; 
The Puppet Booth, The Nation, March 6; This 
Dust op Dreams, The Nation, February 21; To Be 
Remembered, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919; 
Transmutation, Scribner*s Magazine, September, 
1919. 

Jessup, Frederika Peterson. The Child to the Ghost op 
Karin, Scribner*s Magazine, January. 

Jewett, Eleanore Myers. Bepore You Came, The Woman's 
World, March. 

Johnson, Ida Judith. Changed, Contemporary Verse, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Johnson, Vlyn. Friends, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Johnston, William. Sketch, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, May. 

Jolas, Eugene. Vagabond, The Pagan, April-May. 

Jones, Howard Mumford. They That Dwell in Shadow, 
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, January- 
February- March. 

Jones, Ralph Mortimer. A Prayer, Contemporary Verse, 
May. 

Jones, Ruth Lambert. Comparison, The Bookman, September, 
1919; Echoes, Contemporary Verse, December, 1919; 
Inviolate, The Bookman, January; The Prodigal, 
Scrihner*s Magazine, January; To Her, Contemporary 
Verse, December, 1919. 

Junkin, Charles Irvin. An Old-Fashioned Wedding Hymn 
IN June Time, The Woman's World, June. 

140 



Eauffman, Reginald Wright. Recognition, The Century 
Magazine, November, 1919. 

Kearney, Clytie Hazel. Lost Moon, Contemporary Verse, 
September, 1919. 

Kelley, Leone. Snow, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January. 

Kemp, Harry. Disparity, Ainslee's Magazine, May; He 
Did Not Know, The Century Magazine, October, 1919; 
I Know That. Flo webs Fade, Ainslee's Magazine, 
April; Insomnia, The Outlook, January 14; The Tray- 
sler, Ainslee's Magazine, December, 1919; To Fiam- 
ETTA, Ainslee's Magazine, August, 1919; You Talk op 
This and That, The Outlook, January 28. 

Kempson, John Whitman. Thb Riveb Leaf (Saiunq a 
Canob on the Hudson), Contemporary Verse, July. 

Kenyon, Bernice Lesbia. Distraction, The Sonnet, Septem- 
ber-October, 1919; Earth-Bound, The Sonnet, March- 
April. 

Kenyon, Doris. The Birth of the Firefly, Ainslee's 
Magazine, January. 

Keyes, Franklin C. A Ballad of Dying, The Catholic 
World, November, 1919. 

Kilbourne, Fannie. Faithfulness, Ainslee's Magazine, 
February. 

Kilmer, Aline. Atonement, The Outlook, May 19; The Gar- 
den, The Bookman, March. 

Krainin, Blanche. Triumph, The Pagan, April-May. 

Kreymborg, Alfred. Dorothy, The Dial, March; Cradle, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February; Indian Sky, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January; Miss Sal's 
Monologue, Contemporary Verse, February; Spirit, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February. 

Kipling, Rudyard. The Gods of the Copybook Maxims, 
Harper s Magazine, January; To W. C. W. M. D. 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February. 

Laird, William. Backgrounds, Contemporary Verse, April. 

Lake, Stuart N. Dad an' Me, The Outlook, June 9. 

Langebek, May Wyon. Comforters, The Midland, A Maga- 
zine of the Middle West, January-February-March. 

Laprade, M. Peace with Honor, Harper's Magazine, 
October, 1919; The Bandicoot, Harper's Magazine^ 
March; The Marmot and the Marmoset, Harper's 
Magazine, December, 1919; The Rime of the Last 
Bolshevist, Harper's Magazine, February. i 

Laramore, Vivian Yeiser. Love's Gifts, The Woman's 
World, January; On Mother's Day, The Woman's 
World, May. 

Larson, Ernest E. Song, The Detroit Sunday News, March 2. 

Lawless, Margaret H. Opportunity, The C, L, of C. Index, 
July 

141 



LeCron, Helen Cowles. Familiar, Contemporary Verse, 
April; Prater in Spring, Contemporary Verse, April. 

Le Gallienne, Hesper. A Villanellb of Life and Death, 
Harjter's Magazine, December, 1919; The Patient 
Gods, Harper's Magazine, August, 1919. 

Le Gallienne, Richard. A Bookman's Ballade, Harper*9 
Magazine, November, 1919; A Ballade of Pessi- 
mists, Harper's Magazine, February; A Walkinq 
SoNQ, Harper's Magazine, April; Ballade of His 
Lady's Wardrobe, Ainslee's Magazine, January; 
Ballade of the Modern Bard, Harper's Magazine, 
October, 1919; Ballade of the Unchanginq Beautt, 
Ainslee's Magazine, April; Carpe Diem, Ainslee's 
Magazine, November, 1919; Catalogue of Lovelt 
things. Harper's Magazine, February; In the Woods 
AT Midsummer, Ainslee's Magazine, August, 1919; 
On Re-Reading "Le Morte D' Arthur, The Book- 
man, January; Whene'er I Sing of You, Ainslee's 
Magazine, February. 

Leonard, Dorothy. The Proof, The Outlook, May 12; "You 
Think Mb Cold," Harper's Magazine, February. 

Leroi, Ralph. In a Virginia Garden, The New Republic, 
February 18. 

Lesemann, Maurice. Appointment, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April; No Poem, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
April; The Crying Cranes, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April; To Himself in Autumn, Poetry, A Maga^ 
zine of Verse, April; Tramps, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April. 

Lewis, Charlton. Methusaleh, The Yale Review, April. 

Lee, Agnes. Mrs. Malooly, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; Old Lizette on Sleep, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, June; The Ancient Singer, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, June; The Ilex Tree, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, June. 

Lee, Harry. For Remembrance, The OuUook, June 2; 
The Letter-Carrier, The Outlook, June 16; To the 
Supreme, The Catholic World, March. 

Lee, Muna. Regret, Ainslee's Magazine, October, 1919; 
Things That Do Not Change, Ainslee's Magazine, 
March. 

Lewis, Janet Loxley. Austerity, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, June; Fossil, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June; Geology, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; 
The End of the Age, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
June. 

Lieberman, Elias. Ballade of Lost Illusions, Ainslee's 
Magazine, February; Gargoyles, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919. 

Lincoln, Elliot C. Gray Butte, Contemporary Verse, June; '. 

142 ' 



Montana Niqht, Contemporary Verse, December, 
1919; Mrs. Senator Jones, Contemporary Verse, 
December, 1919. 

Linderman, Frank B. My Friend Pete Lebeaux, Scribner't 
Maganine, 1919. 

Lippmann, L. Blackledge. Twilight, Harper's Magazine, 
February. 

Livesay, Florence Randal. Gold Ladies, Contemporary 
Verse, December, 1919. 

Lowell, Amy. A Legend of Porcelain, The North American 
Review, March; A Shower, The Century Magazine, 
April; Autumn, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, Septem- 
ber, 1919; Balls, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, Sep- 
tember, 1919; Frimaire, Scribner*s Magazine, August, 
1919; Gavotte in D Minor, The Dial, June; Good 
Gracious, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 
1919; Little Ivory Figures Pulled with Strings, The 
North American Review, October, 1919; Memorandum 
Confided by a Yucca to a Passion Vine, The Book" 
man, November-December, 1919; Merely State- 
ment, The Bookman, May; Peach-Colob to a Soap- 
BuBBLE, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 
1919; The Artist, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
September, 1919; The Bookshop, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, September, 1919; Trees in Winter, The 
North American Review, October, 1919. 

Lowie, Risa. Peace, The New Republic, May 12. 

Lowrey, Perrin Holmes. Dawn in the Hills, Contemporary 
Verse, April; Gifts, Ainslee's Magazine, January; 
The Trystinq Woods, Contemporary Verse, April; 
To a Mocking Bird, Contemporary Verse, April. 

Luce, Morton. The Flower and the Butterfly, The 
Sonnet, March-April. 

Luckow, Ruth. Doves, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Lyster, M. Dawn, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 
1919; The Painted Saint in the Wood, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, October, 1919. 

M. Farewell. Contemporary Verse, May. 

M., S. M. For Your Birthday, The Catholic World, June. 

Maclntyre, Carlyle F. Elf Music, Ainslee*s Magazine, 

April; The Dreamer in the Sun, Ainslee*s Magazine, 

November, 1919; The Magic Inn, Ainslee's Magazine, 

October, 1919. 
Mala, Yenomdrah. The Body and the Soul, The New 

Republic, December 31, 1919. 
Markham, Lucia Clark. To Geraldine Farrar as '*Joan 

THE Woman," Contemporary Verse, May. 
Marks, Jeannette, Even as Here, The Nation, June 5; 

Green Golden Door, The New Reptiblic, March 3; Jourp- 

143 



net's End, Ainslee's Magazine^ March; Many Sobrows, 
The Outlook, May 26; Rosy Miller, Poetry, A Magor 
zine of Verse, March; Sea-Gxtlls, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March; Two Candles, The North American 
Review, August, 1919. 

Masters, Edgar Lee. A Republic, The Nation, September 
27, 1919. 

Marple, Charles F. Woman, Harper's Magazine, January. 

Masefield, John. Four Sonnets, Contemporary Verse, 
April; Lyric, The Yale Review, January; The Passing 
Strange, The Yale Review, April. 

Marshall, Marguerite Moores. A Song of Loves Mortal, 
Ainslee's Magazine, November, 1919; Resurgah, 
Ainslee's Magazine, October, 1919. 

Martyn, Wyndham. Autre Temps, Ainslee's Magazine, 
April. 

Matson, Mabel Cornelia. What Grief? Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, May. 

Maynard, Theodore. The Denial, The Outlook, July 14. 

Meadowcroft, Clara Pratt. Road Song, Contemporary Verse, 
January. 

Merington, Marguerite. Adam Daulac, The North American 
Review, April. 

Merryman, Mildred Plew. Two at a Concert, Contemporary 
Verse, May. 

Meyer, Josephine A., Epitaph, Ainslee's Magazine, December, 
1919. 

Meyer, Lucy Rider. Dey*8 a Li*l Six Feet op Groun*, Some- 
where (A Spiritual), The Outlook, December 17, 
1919; W'en Ye Doan' Know What To Do (A Spirit- 
ual), The Outlook, March 24. 

Middleton, Scudder. Overhead, Harper's Magazine, October, 
1919; Song in the Key of Autumn, The Century 
Magazine, November, 1919; The Worker, Harper's 
Magazine, December, 1919. 

Millay, Edna St. Vincent. Doubt no More That Oberon, 

The Nation, April 13; Inland, Ainslee's Magazine, 

November, 1919; Mariposa, Ainslee's Magazine^ May; 

Mirage, Ainslee's Magazine, March; Rosemary, 

Ainslee's Magazine, October, 1919; Shrine, Ainslee's 

Magazine, September, 1919; Song of a Second April, 

Ainslee's Magazine, February; Sonnet, Ainslee's 

Magazine, April; The Death of Autumn, The Nation, 

October 25, 1919; To Love Impuissant, The Did, 

March. 

Miller, Florette Truesdell. The Mandolin, The Stratford 

Journal, October-December, 1919; The Wind's Way, 

The Stratford Journal, October-December, 1919. 

Miller, J. Corson. Aphrodite, The Forum, February; Breton 

Love-Song, The Boston Transcript, February 4; Christ- ^ 

144 



HAS IN THE Argonne, The N. Y. Times, December 19, 
1919; Dedication, The Magnificat, September, 1919; 
Karinna, The Boston Transcript, April 7; Life's 
Gray Shadows, The Forum, December, 1919; Madonna 
OP THE Moonlit Hours, The Ave Maria, May 8; 
Maximilian Marvelous, The N. Y. Times, February 
8; Recompense, The Forum, April-May; Remembrance, 
The Boston Transcript, December 24, 1919; Song- 
Makers, The Boston Transcript, December S; The 
March op Humanity, The Nation, September 6, 
1919; The Rainbow, The Catholic World, July; The 
Victor, The Rosary Magazine, February; The World, 
The Catholic World, June; Transformation, The N, Y. 
Times, January 5. 

Minas, LootJB The Infinite Desire, Translated from the 
1 Armenian by B. A. Botkin, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919. 

Mitchell, Ruth Comfort. The Choosing, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919. 

Monro, Harold. Cuty Storm, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; Introspection, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March. 

Moore, William Dyer. King Arthur's Return, The Texas 
Review, October, 1919. 

Morgan, Angela. The Doer, The Outlook, December 31, 1919. 

Morgan, Emanuel. Statues, The Nation, February 14. 

Morton, David. A Certain Oak, Ainslee's Magazine, 
February; A Certain One Who Died, Ainslee*s 
Magazine, January; A Garden Wall, The Bookman, 
September, 1919; Alchemies, The Nation, March 6; 
In the Cemetery, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Mariners, Harper's Magazine, August, 
1919; Sorrow in Spring, Ainslee*s Magazine, May; 
Summer, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July; Symbols, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July; The Convict, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February; To William 
Griffith, He That is Pierrot, The N, Y, Sun Books 
and Book World, July 27, 1919; Transfiguration, 
Ainslee's Magazine, September, 1919; Writs, The 
Bookman, November-December, 1919. 

Morris, Keneth. A Morning in September, Contemporary 
Verse, June; Evening Over False Bay, Contemporary 
Verse, June; Noon on the Hillside, Contemporary 
Verse, June; Pampas-Grass, Contemporary Verse, 
June; The Flowers, Contemporary Verse, June; The 
Rain, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Moult, Thomas. Here for a T^me, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, July. 

Mount, Richard. Nocturne, The Detroit Sunday News, 
February 22. 

145 



1 



Moore, Edward Roberts. Jesus, The Catholic World, May. 

Moore, Marianne. England, The Dial, April; Picking and 
Choosing, The Dial, April. 

Muller, Julius W. Prisoner of Belshazzab, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919. 

Munsterberg, Margaret. Two Sonnets on Paintings by 
Jean Francois Millet, The Stratford Journal, Septem- 
ber, 1919. 

Murphy, Charles R. In the Making of a House, Contem- 
porary Verse, July; Threnody, Contemporary Verse, 
July; To France, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919; Winter-Bound, Contemporary Verse, February. 

Muth, Edna Tucker. The Freshman, The Midland, A Maga" 
zine of the Middle West, November-December, 1919. 

McCarthy, John Russell. Our Friends, Contemporary Verse, 
March; Wild Aster, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
I^ccGinbd* 1019 

McClellan, Walter. To V. C. G., The Midland, A Magazine 
of the Middle West, November-December, 1919. 

McCluskey, Katharine Wisner. A Heat Wave, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, July; A Jester, Contemporary 
Verse, March; Confessional, Contemporary Verse, 
October, 1919; Darkness, Contemporary Verse, June; 
Envyings, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July. 

McConnell, Anna B. Accuracy, Contemporary Verse, Novem- 
ber, 1919. 

McCourt, Edna Wahlert. Query, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, May; Strangers, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
May; You and I, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 

McDougal, Mary Carmack. The Joke, Contemporary Verse, 
January; To an Ancient Man at Forty-Seven, 
Contemporary Verse, January; To Something Indomit- 
TABLE, Contemporary Verse, January. 

McFarland, Helen. A Wish, Harper*s Magazine, April. 

Mclntyre, Carlyle F. Compensations, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, May; Lady of Autumn, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, May; The House of Laurels, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, May; The Mourners, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, May; The Brimming Cup, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, May; The Green Door, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, May; The Untamed, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, May. 

McKenny, Margaret. Summer, Contemporary Verse, July; 
SwEETPEAS, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July; The 
Meadow, Contemporary Verse, July. 

McLeod, Irene Rutherford. April, The New Republic, May 
12; Free Will, The Century Magazine, June. 

N., A. Out of the Dark, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June^ 
Neilson, Caroline. Dawn, Contemporary Verse, June. 

146 



Nevin, Hardwicke. Soissons, Scribner^s Magazine, May. 

Nichols, Robert. Invocation, The Century Magazine, ISoyem' 
ber, 1919; Seventeen, Tke Yale Keview, April; Song 
AND Soul, The Century Magazine, Januarv; The 
Flower of Flame, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
November, 1919; The Long Road, The Century 
Magazine, June; The Pilgbim, The Century Magazine, 
June; The Sprig op Lime, The Yale Review, January. 

NichoU, Louise Townsend. In the Street, The Midland, A 
Magazine of the Middle West, April; Revelation, 
Contemporary Verse, September, 1919; Weaver, 
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, September- 
October, 1919. 

Noguchi, Yone. Hokku, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, Novem- 
ber, 1919. 

Norman, H. L. Crooning Creeds, The Stratford Journal, 
August, 1919. 

Norton, Grace Fallow. **Good-By, Proud World, I'm 
Going Home!" Harper*s Magazine, August, 1919; 
Or Did You Love Death? Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, February; The Burned House, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, February. 

Norris, W. A. After Snow, Contemporary Verse, January. 

Novak, Ruthele. In a Dining Car, Contemporary Verse, 
January. 

Noyes, Alfred, Christmas, 1919, The Outlook, December 17, 
1919; Mountain Laurel, The Yale Review, April. 



O'Brien, Mary J. The Holy Tree, The Catholic World, March. 

O'Connor, Armel. Beauty, The Catholic World, February. 

O* Conor, Norreys Jephson. Bells op Erin, Contemporary 
Verse, March; Moira's Keening. Contemporary Verse, 
October, 1919; The Road, Contemporary Verse, 
March; The Song Without End, Contemporary 
Verse, March. 

O'Donnell, C. S. C, Charles L. Said Alan Seeger Unto 
Rupert Brooke, The Sonnet, January-February; 
Transformation, The Bookman, November-December, 
1919; Twilight, The Bookman, March. 

Oliver, Wade. Broken Stars, Contemporary Verse, July; 
Lyric Silence, Contemporary Verse, July; The Name, 
Contemporary Verse, July. 

Olivier, Sydney. Transparency, Ainslee*s Magazine, Novem- 
ber, 1919. 

Olson, Ted. Clouds, Contemporary Verse, November, 1919; 
Symbol, Contemporary Verse, June. 

O'Neil, George. Circe, Contemporary Verse, March; Song 
OP THE Wanderlust, The Century Magazine, April; 
Youth in Mid-Summer, Contemporary Verse, July* 

147 



O'Neil, Ida. To a Pebsian Manuscript. The Nation^ August 

2, 1919. 
O'Neill, Genevieve D. Despair, Contemporary Verse, June. 
O'Neill, Sheila. The Test, Contemporary Verse, January; 

To One Afar, The Pagan, April-May. 
O'Seasnain, Brian Padraic. The Silences, The Catholie 

World, August, 1919. 

Paine, Albert Bigelow. Thaw, Harper's Magazine, February. 

Parker, Hetty Cattell. Sensorial Sketches of Women, 
The Pagan, April-May. 

Parrish, Emma Kenyon. Jot, Contemporary Verse, May; 
White and Gold, Contemporary Verse, Decemb^, 
1919. 

Patterson, Antoinette De Coursey. Moonlight in the 
Birch Wood, Contemporary Verse, June; The Re- 
sponse, Contemporary Verse, June; The Sea To-dat, 
Ainslee's Magazine, November, 1919. 

Patterson, Jean Rushmore. Kinq Albert Comes! The 
Outlook, October 1, 1919. 

Peabody, Josephine Prestton. Portrait of a Daughter, 
Contemporary Verse, November, 1919. 

Peace, Arthur Wallace. A Day from Paradise, The Woman* s 
World, January. 

Pennant, Antoinette West. Meed, Harper*s Magazine, 
March. 

Percy, William Alexander. Adventure, Contemporary Verse, 
May; Autumnal, Scribner*s Magazine, March; Far- 
mers, Contemporary Verse, May. 

Peterson, Frederick. The Winter Garden, The Nation, 
January 17. 

Pettus, Martha Elvira. Sister Teresa (In Memoriam), 
The Catholic World, August, 1919. 

Perry, Lilla Cabot, Forgive Mb Not! Harper* s Magazine, 
May; The Cup, Harper's Magazine, May; The Rose, 
Harper's Magazine, May. 

Peyton, John R. C. Shooting Star, Contemporary Verse, 
February; The Lake and I, Contemporary Verse, 
February; Time, Contemporary Verse, February; 
Wolves, Contemporary Verse, February. 

Phillpotts, Eden. On Eylesbarrow, Scribner's Magazine, 
November, 1919. 

Piper, Edwin Ford. Bindlestiff, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, January; Sweetgrass range. Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, January; Whoa, Zebe, Whoa, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January. 

Pinckney, Josephine L. S. Nuptial, Contemporary Verse, 
September, 1919. 

Pinder, Frances Dickenson. Inland, Contemporary Verse, 
September, 1919. 

148 



Pinifer, Alice. The Wind, Contemporary Verse, May. 
Porter, Charlotte. Shop-Flowebs and Shrine-Flowebs, 

The Stratford Journal, September, 1919. 
Portor, Laura Spencer. The Shepherds, Harper*8 Magazine, 

December, 1919. 
Pound, Ezra. The Fourth Canto, The Dial, June. 
Powers, C. S. P., Charles J. A Prayer upon the Sea, The 

Catholic World, March. 
Powys, John Cowper. The Riddle, Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse,. June. 
Prall, Dorothea. Reticence, Contemporary Verse, May. 

Quinter, George E. From the Beach, Contemporary Verse, 

October, 1919. 
Quirk, S. J., Charles J. Upon Discovering a Rose in a 

Book op Poems. To My Mother, The Catholic World, 

July. 

Raskin, P. M. The Game, The Stratford Journal, September, 
1919. 

Ravenel, Beatrice. In, Contemporary Verse, March; The 
Atheist, Contemporary Verse, March; The Humorists, 
Contemporary Verse, November, 1919; To a Poet, 
Contemporary Verse, March. 

Raymund, Bernard. Caprice, The Midland, A Magazine of 
the Middle West, November-December, 1919; Decem- 
ber Woods, The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle 
West, November-December, 1919; If I Go Down, 
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, Novem- 
ber-December, 1919; White Magic, The Midland, A 
Magazine of the Middle West, November-December, 
1919. 

Redfield, Louise. A Shy Child, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
April; After Fever, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
April. 

Reed, John. Foo, Scribner's Magazine, August, 1919. 

Reese, Lizette Woodworth. To Time (On a False Lover), 
Contemporary Verse, July; Old Eli, Contemporary 
Verse, July; I Weep for Him, Ainslee's Magazine, 
March; Her Son, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. 

Rich, H. Thompson. Nocturne — Remeeting, Ainslee's 
Magazine, December, 1919. 

Richardson, Mabel Kingsley. A Short Story, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919. 

Ridge, Lola. An Old Workman, The New Republic, May 19; 
Canaries, Ainslee's Magazine, January; Friends, 
Ainslee*s Magazine, December, 1919; In Harness, 
The New Republic, May 26; My Care, Ainslee's 
Magazine, March; New Orleans, The New Republic, 

149 



May 12; The Spoileb, Ainslee's Magazine, August, 
1919; Unveiling, Ainslee's Magazine, October, 1919, 
Wind in the Alleys, The New Republic, May 12. 

Rittenhouse, Jessie B. The Quest, Harper's Magazine, 
May. 

Rivola, Flora Shufelt. Heart-Cby, The Midland, A Magazine 
of the Middle West, July- August, 1919; Promise, The 
Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West, July-August, 
1919. 

Roberts, Mary Eleanor. A Poet in the City, Contemporary 
Verse, September, 1919; The Coquette to the 
Apple-Eateb, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919. 

Roberts, Walter Adolphe. Ave (Madame Oloa Petrova, 
Ainslee's Magazine, April; The Celt, The Century 
Magazine, December, 1919; The Dreamers, Ainslee*s 
Magazine, February; Tiger Lily, Ainslee*s Magazine, 
November, 1919. 

Robinson, Edwin Arlington. Inferential, The Dial, Janu- 
ary; Tact, The Yale Review, January; The Wandering 
Jew, The Outlook, December 24, 1919. ' 

Rodker, John. The Searchlight, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, October, 1919. 

Roe, Robert J. Love, The New Republic, February 18; 
Mountains, The New Republic, December 31, 1919; 
The Captain's Wipe, The New Republic, March 17; 
The Eternal Battle, Contemporary Verse, Novem- 
ber, 1919; The Link, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919; Worship, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. 

Rollins, Leighton. Song at Dusk, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919. 

Roof, Katharine Metcalf. Mirage, Ainslee*s Magazine, 
December, 1919. 

Root, E. Merrill. Night on the River, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, July; Rain, Contemporary Verse, December, 
1919; The Mountain of Skeletons, Contemporary 
Verse, May. 

Rorty, James. The Conqueror, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, September, 1919. 

Roth, Samuel. Mourning, The Midland, A Magazine of the 
Middle West, July- August, 1919; Sundown, The Mid- 
land, A Magazine of the Middle West, July-August, 
1919; YoHRZ, The Nation, May 8. 

Runnette, Mabel. To a Cardinal, Contemporary Verse, 
April. 

S., T. J. An Answer, The Catholic World, August, 1919. 

Sabel, Marx G. Afternoon on the St. John's, Contemporary 
Verse, July; Appearances, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, October, 1919; Inviolate, Contemporary Verse, 

150 




February; Passing Love, Contemporary Verse, Febru- 
ary; Refutation, Contemporary Verse, February; 
Song for Presumptuous Searches after Love, 
Contemporary Verse, February; The Prophecy, Con^ 
temporary Verse, February. 

Sandburg, Carl. Bas-Reuef, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Broken-Face Gargoyles, The Dial, March; 
Evening Waterfall, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Four Preludes on Playthings of the 
Wind, The New Republic, July 21; Hats, The Dial, 
March; Jazz Fantasia, The Dial, March; Losers, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February; Night- Move- 
ment — New York, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; Pennsylvania, The Dial, March; People 
Who Must, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February; 
Sea- Wash, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February; 
Smoke and Steel, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; The Law Says, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February; The Lawyers Know Too Much, The Dial, 
January; Three Spring Notations on Bipeds, The 
Nation, May 15. 

Sapir, Edward. French-Canadian Folk-Songs, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, July; God, Contemporary Verse, 
March; Helen of Troy, The New Republic, March 10; 
Sullen Silence, The Pagan, April- May; The Dumb 
Shepherdess, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July; 
The Harvest, The Nation, June 19; The King of 
Spain's Daughter and the Diver, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, July; The Prince of Orange, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, July; White as Snow, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, July. 

Sangster, Jr., Margaret £. The Sacrifice, Scribner^s Maga- 
zine, December, 1919. 

Sarett, Lew. Chief Bear's-Heart Makes Talk, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; Cities, Nature 
Study Review, December, 1919; God is at the Anvil, 
The Farm Journal, February; Little Caribou Makes 
Big Talk, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919; Rain Song, an Algonquin Medicine Song, 
The Stratford Journal, August, 1919; The Great 
Divide, The Argosy, May 24; The Loon, American 
Forestry, May. 

Sassoon, Siegfried. An All-British Sonnet (Peace Cele- 
bration), The New Republic, April 28; First Night: 
Richard III, The New Republic, March 17. 

Schauffler, Robert Haven. A Soul Remembers, Contemporary 
Verse, January; Divers, The Outlook, June 9. 

Scollard, Clinton. An Epistle to Alexander Pope, Harper's 
Magazine, May. 

Scott, Evelyn. After Youth, The Dial, January; 

151 



Autumn Night, The Dial, January; Consebyatibm, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; 
Devil's Cradle, The Dial, January; Fear, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; Immor- 
tality, The Dial, January; Isolation Ward, 
The Dial, January; Little Pigs, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, November, 1919; Mail on the Ranch, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; 
Narrow Flowers, The Dial, January; New Moon, 
The Dial, January; Night, The Dial, January; Rainy 
Season, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919; Ship Masts, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
November, 1919; The City at Midnight, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; The Death op 
Columbine, The Dial, January; The Red Cross, The 
Dial, January; The Silly Ewe, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, November, 1919; The Storm, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; The Vampire 
Bat, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919; 
The Year, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919; Tropic Moon, The Dial, January; Tropical 
Flowers, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 
1919; Twenty-Four Hours, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, November, 1919; Winter Moon, The Dial, 
January. 

Seiffert, Marjorie Allen. Cythaera and the Leaves, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; Cythaera and the 
Song, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; Cythaera 
AND THE Worm, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June; 
Lorenzo's Bas-Relief for a Florentine Chest, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Maura, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; November, 
Contemporary Verse, November, 1919; Resurrection, 
Contemporary Verse, January; The Giver, Contemporary 
Verse, January; To an Absent Child, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919; Two Designs, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, October, 1919. 

Shanafelt, Clara. A Death, The New Republic, April 7; 
A Dynamic Personality, The New Republic, April 28; 
Major, The New Republic, February 18. 

Shepard, Odell. Metempsychosis, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919. 

Shelton, R. V. A. City Rain, The New Republic, June 9. 

Shore, Viola Brothers. Brown Arms, Ainslee*s Magazine, 
August, 1919. 

Sill, Louise Morgan. Song in Spring, Harper* $ Magazine, 
April. 

Simpson, William H. Burdens, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, January; Dance of the Dust Witches, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January; Deserted, Poetry, A 

152 



Magazine of Verse, January; Ghosts, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, January; Grand Canton, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, January; Hopi Maiden, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, January; Homesick Song, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January; Hopi-Tuh, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, January; November, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, January; Pity Not, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, Januarys Shadow Faces, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January; The New Day, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, January; The Fog Ghost, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January; The North 
Woods, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January. 

Simmons, Laura. Affirmation, The Catholic World, January. 

Skeen, Ruth Loomis. March, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March. 

Slater, Mary White. Rain, Contemporary Verse, March. 

Slyke, Berenice Van. The Circle, Contemporary Verse, 
March. 

Smertenko» J. J. Hunter's Monotone, The Nation, August 
16, 1919. 

Smith, Clark Ashton. In November, Ainslee*s Magazine, 
December, 1919; Reqihescat in Pace, The Midland, 
A Magazine of the Middle West, May. 

Smith, Lewis Worthington. A Vase from Nippon, Con- 
temporary Verse, January; Roofs, Contemporary 
Verse, January; Salome, Contemporary Verse, Septem- 
ber, 1919. 

Smith, Mrs. L. Worthington. The Spoils, The Stratford 
Journal, August, 1919. 

Smith, Marion Couthouy. In A Cemetery, The Outlook, 
February 18. 

Smith, Nora Archibald. Moving Pictures, The Stratford 
Journal, October-December, 1919. 

Snow, Charles Wilbert. Olaf, The Nation, February 7. 

Snow, Royall, A Tragic Nocturne, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919; Beacon, The Stratford 
Journal, October-December, 1919; Nightfall, The 
Pagan, April-May; Night-Rain, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919. 

Solomon, M. Walter. Images Japonaises, The Pagan, April- 
May. 

South, Ira. Caribbean Lullaby, 8cribner*s Magazine, 
November, 1919; Regret, Scrihner's Magazine, Novem- 
ber, 1919; The Joke, Scribner's Magazine, November, 
1919; Uncertainty, Scribner*9 Magazine, November, 
1919; Vale, Scribner*s Magazine, November, 1919; 
Victory, Scribner*s Magazine, November, 1919; 
Wisdom, Scribner*a Magazine, November, 1919. 

Speight, £. S. Danger, Harper's Magazine, May. 

Speyer, Leonora. A Gift, The Touchstone; Crickets at 

15S 



Dawn, Poetry » A Magazine of Verse, July; First 
Communion, Contemporary Verse, July; Gold-Fish, 
Contemporary Verse, July; New Moon, Contemporary 
Verse, July; Pain, The Freeman; Sekhmet the Lion- 
Headed, Contemporary Verse, April; Skyway Robbery» 
Contemporary Verse, July; Spring Cowardice, Con- 
temporary Verse, April; Suddenly, The Century Maga- 
zine, March; The Confidant, Contemporary Verse, 
July; The Ladder, Reedy* s Mirrort The Last Morn- 
ing IN THE Country, The Nation; The Locust, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, July; The Squall, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, July; The Workinoman (from the 
German of Richard Dehmel), The Nation, July 19» 
1919. 

Spiller, Robert E. The Moment, Contemporary Verse, March; 
The Road, Contemporary Verse, March. 

Spofford, Harriet Prescott. Cadwallader, Harper* s Maga- 
zine, January. 

Stait, Virginia. Hunger, Contemporary Verse, November, 
1919. 

Stanton, Stephen Berrien. Lincoln Memorial, Scribner's 
Magazine, October. 

Starbuck, Victor. Home-Coming, Harper's Magazine, Decem- 
ber, 1919; Resurrection, Harper* s Magazine, May. 

Stark, Anne Campbell. To Alice, The Detroit Sunday News, 
May. 

Stern, Benjamin. New-Born Babe, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919. 

Sterling, George. Afternoon, Ainslee*s Magazine, May; 
Autumnal Love, Ainslee*s Magazine, September, 1919; 
The Masque of Dream, to Ruth Chatterton, 
Ainslee*s Magazine, December, 1919. 

Stetson, Marjorie Muir. November, The Pagan, April- 
May. 

Stevens, Wallace. Anecdote of the Jar, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, October, 1919; Banal Sojourn, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Colloquy with a 
Polish Aunt, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 
1919; Exposition of the Contents of a Cab, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Fabliau of 
Florida, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; 
Homunculus Et La Belle Etoile, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, October, 1919; Of the Surface of 
Things, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; 
Peter Parasol, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 
1919; Ploughing on Sunday, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, October, 1919; The Weeping Burgher, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; The Curtains 
IN the House of the Metaphysician, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse October, 1919; The Paltry Nude 

154 



Starts on a Spring Voyage, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, October, 1919; The Place op the Solitaires, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; The Indigo 
Glass in the Grass, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
October, 1919. 

Stewart, Clare D. Crossing on the Seattle Ferrt, Con- 
temporary Verse, June. 

Stewart, Luella. Desire, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
October, 1919. 

Stockbridge, Dorothy, Entreaty, Ainslee's Magazine, 
February. 

Stockett, M. Letitia. Discovert, Contemporary Verse, June; 
Pomegranates, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919; 
Wedding Song, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Stork, Charles Wharton. The Final Gift, Ainslee's Maga- 
zine, December, 1919; Beauty, The Forum. 

Strobel, Marion. Anticipation, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, March; Ennxh, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; Hands, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March; 
Let Me Play Net, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; Spring Day, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
March; The Last Ritual, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, March; Two Sonnets, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, March. 

Strong, Katharine. Bobolinks, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Tagore, Rabindranath. Love Lyrics, Translated from the 
Original Bengali by Basanta Koomar Roy. The 
Stratford Journal, October-December, 1919. 

Taggard, Genevieve. An Hour on a Hill, Harper's Maga- 
zine, December, 1919; From the Sea, Suggested by 
a Hawaiian legend. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June. 

Tanaquil, Paul. Moondown, Poetry, A Magazine of yerse. 
May. 

Taylor, Frances Beatrice. "My Guests," Contemporary 
Verse, January. 

Teasdale, Sara. Compensation, The Bookman, April; Day 
AND Night, Scribner*s Magazine, December, 1919; 
"I Know the Stars," Harper's Magazine, August, 
1919; "I Thought op You," The Bookman, March; 
If Death Is Kind, The Century Magazine, March; 
It Is Not a Word, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
September, 1919; June Night, The Bookman, March; 
"Like Barley Bending," The Century Magazine, 
March; Lovely Chance, Harper's Magazine, May; 
My Heart la Heavy, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
September, 1919; "Oh Day op Firb and Sun," The 
Bookman, March; Song, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
September, 1919; Spring Torrents, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, September, 1919; The Unchanging, 

155 



The Century Magazine, March; The Voice, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; Thouohtb, 
The Century Magazine, November, 1919; What Do I 
Cabe^? Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; 
When Death ib Over, The Bookman, March. 

Thomas, Edith M. "I Dreaded to Be Pitied," Scribner's 
Magazine, June. 

Thomson, O. R. Howard. Portrait of a Man, In Mem- 
ORiAM H. Douglas Spaeth, Penna Grit, May 16; 
The Procession, Contemporary Verse, October, 1919. 

Titus, Ira. Mt Flower, The Wayfarer. 

Tompkins, Eufina C. Mirage, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
February. 

Torrence, Ridgely. The Apples, The Nation, January 3. 

Towne, Charles Hanson. A Ballad of the Circus, The 
Century Magazine, April; Carouse, The Century 
Magazine, October, 1919. 

Trapnell, Edna Valentine. Inland, Contemporary Verse, 
March; The Net, Contemporary Verse, March. 

Treadwell, Sara. Payment, Contemporary Verse, June. 

Trimble, Chandler. Ruth, The Midland, A Magazine of the 
Middle West, July- August, 1919. 

Trombly, Albert Edmund. An Afterword, Contemporary 
Verse, March; Ascetic, The Stratford Journal, October- 
December, 1919; Baby-Tongue, Contemporary Verse, 
September, 1919; The Three Children, From the 
Old French, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July; 
To My Son, Contemporary Verse, September, 1919; A 
Pine Squirrel, The Texas Review, April; Mrs. Neigh- 
bor, The Texas Review, April; Orchestral, The Texas 
Review, April; Sleepyhead, The Texas Review, April; 
Soaring and Grovelling, The Texas Review, April; 
Smoke, The Texas Review, April; Table Waitress, 
The Texas Review, April; The Ranchman, The Texas 
Review, April. 

Troth, John T. The Ultimate Tryst, Contemporary Verse, 
March. 

Troy, Daniel W. As the Band Goes By, Contemporary Verse, 
June. 

Turbyfill, Mark. A Song of Givers and Takers, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Chicago, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; End of Summer, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919; Journey, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October,. 1919. 

Trusler, Harry Raymond. You, The Woman* s World, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Tynan, Katharine. Song of Going, The Catholic World, 
January. 

Tytus, Grace S. H. The Vision, Harper*s Magastine, Noyem- 
ber. 1919. 

156 



Unna, Sarah. Completion, Contemporary Verse, February; 
The Victors, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, December, 
1919. 

Untermeyer, Louis. Bereaved, Scribner's Magazine, Febru- 
ary; Matinee, The Dial, February; Mozart, The Yale 
Review, July; Portrait of a Reactionary, The 
Yale Review, July; Portrait of an Old Cathedral, 
The YaU Review, July; Retrospect, The Century 
Magazine, December, 1919; Walls Against Eden, 
The New Republic, July 14; With a Volume of Heine, 
The Dial, February; Auction Anderson Gallerils, 
The New Republic, 

Updegraff, Allan. The Dailt Round, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, February. 

Upper, Joseph. Questionnaire, Contemporary Verse, Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Van Rensselaer, Mrs. Schuyler. OfjShakespeare's Sonnets 
TO "Mr. W. H.," The Sonnet, September-October, 
1919. 

Vannah, Kate. His Prophecy, Contemporary Verse, Sep- 
tember, 1919. 

Vedder, Miriam. Yesterday I Told the Truth, Contem- 
porary Verse, March. 

Vines, Sherard. The Bull, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 

Wagenhals, Margaret Hamilton. The Music Box, Contem- 
porary Verse, December, 1919. 

Wagstaff, Blanche Shoemaker. Gift, Ainslee's Magazine, 
May. 

Waldron, Marion Patton. Your Soul in My Two Hands, 
The Century Magazine, March. 

Waley, Arthur. Early Snow, a No Play, Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March. 

Walton, Eda Lou. From a Promontory, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, May; I Met Three Lovers, Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, May; Indian Love Songs, 
Contemporary Verse, February; Indian Prayer, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; Morning and 
Night, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May; Navajo 
Songs, The Nation, April 17; One Spring, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, May; Prayer for Harvest, 
Contemporary Verse, February; Strength, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, May. 

Warvelle, Effie Bangs. Winter Flowers, Contemporary 
Verse, January. 

Watson, Virginia. The Galleons, Harper*s Magazine, 
March. 

Wattles, Willard. In Memory, Robert Clayton Westman 
OF Massachusetts Died in France, August 10, 

157 



1918, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 1019; 
Sister Euphbobyne, Contemporary Verse, March. 

Weaver, John V. A. Dbuo Store, Poetry, A Magazine cf 
Verse, February; Nocturne, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, February. 

Webster, Louise. At Cross-Roads, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919; Clairaudient, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919; Dawn, Contemporary Verse, Novem- 
ber, 1919. 

Welles, Winifred. A Child to Her Mother, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919; Driftwood, Contemporary 
Verse, February; Exile, The North American Review, 
May; Gesture, The North American Review, Septem- 
ber, 1919; Resemblance, Contemporary Verse, October, 
1919; Second Growth, Harper* s Magazine, January; 
Setting for a Fairy Tale, The North American 
Review, September, 1919. 

Wells, Carolyn. The Disappointed Centipede, Harper's 
Magazine, October, 1919. 

Wentworth, C. Ante Amorem, Contemporary Verse, Septem- 
ber, 1919. 

Wharton, Edith. Mistral in the Maquis, The Yale 
Review, January; Lyrical Epigrams, The Yale Review, 
January; The Young Dead, The Yale Review, Jan- 
uary. 

Wheelock, John Hall. Human, Scribner's Magazine, August, 
1919; Storm and Sun, Reddy*s Mirror, August, 1919; 
My Lonely One, The Freeman, July. 

Whicher, George Meason. An Epistle to Stephen, Scrtb- 
ner's Magazine, March; For the Eighth of December 
(The Birthday of Horace), The Nation, Dec. 6, 1919. 

White, Viola C. Libebated, The Stratford Journal, August, 
1919. 

Whitford, Robert Calvin. The Seekeb, The Texas Review, 
October, 1919. 

Widdemer, Margaret. Old Love, Ainslee*s Magazine, March; 
On a Contempobaby Anthology, The Nation, Oct. 
11, 1919. 

Wilde, Georgia. The Obe Tbain, Contemporary Verse, 
November, 1919. 

Wilkinson, Florence. Heb Death, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April; Speech, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
April; The Hope of Heaven, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April. 

Wilkinson, Marguerite. An Oath in Apbil, Ainslee's Maga^ 
zine, March; Colobs, Contemporary Verse, February; 
Food, Contemporary Verse, February; This Shall 
Be the Bond, Scribner*s Magazine, January; Trees, 
Contemporary Verse, February; Weather, Contoin- 
parary Verse, February. 

158 



Willcox, Charles. A Garden in Winter, Contemporary 
Verse, February. 

Williams, Oscar C. At A Cabaret, The Stratford Journal, 
October-December, 1919; Dreams, Contemporary Verse, 
October 1919; O Little Waif, Contemporary Verse, 
October 1919; Ruminations, The Nation, Jan. 24. 

Williams, W. W. Striding the Blast (Cadet Hioginbon 
Meditates), The Yale Review, July. 

Williamson, William Hay. To My Valentine, The Woman's 
World, February. 

Wilson, Arden M. "Tired Business Men," Contemporary 
Verse, June. 

Wilson, Charlotte. Veiled Moonuoht, Scribner's Magazine, 
December, 1919. 

Wilson, Jr., Edmund. Gluck in New York, The New 
Republic, Mar. 31. 

Wilson, John French. A Song at Armageddon, June St, 
1917, Contemporary Verse, July; Blue Moonlight, 
Contemporary Verse, July; Moonlight, Contemporary 
Verse, July; Rain, Contemporary Verse, July; Sonnet, 
Contemporary Verse, July; The Captive, Contemporary 
Verse, July; Winter Afternoon, Contemporary 
Verse, July. 

Winke, Charles H. The Forest Fires, American Poetry 
Magazine, September, 1919. 

Winsor, Mary. The May King (Dedicated to A. Mitchell 
Palmer), The New Republic, June 2. 

Winters, A. Y. Concerning Blake, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, September, 1919; Little Rabbit, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; Montezuma, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919; On 
the Mesa, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, September, 
1919; The Old Weep Gently, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, September, 1919; Wild Horses, Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, September, 1919. 

Wister, Mary Channing. After the Concert, Contemporary 
Verse, October, 1919. 

Wright, Harold Holston. A Letter, Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, April; Kinship, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
April; Pastel, Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April. 

Wyck, William van. Sonnet, Ainslee*s Magazine, October, 
1919. 

Wylie, Elinor. "Les Laurier Sont Coupes," Contemporary 
Verse, May. 

Yeats, William Butler. A Prayer for My Daughter, 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, November, 1919. 

Zaturensky, Marya. A Ghetto Poet, The New Republic, 
June 30; A Russian Easter, Poetry, A Magazine of 

159 



Verae, April; A Song op Parting, Ainslee's Magazine, 
November, 1919; Invocation. Contemporary Veree, 
September, 1919: Russian Peasants, Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, April; The Four Horsemen, 
Contemporary Verse, September, 1919. 



r- 



160 



ARTICLES AND REVIEWS OP POETS AND 
POETRY PUBLISHED DURING 

1919-1920 



Aiken, Conrad. Two Views of Contemporary Poetry. The 
Yale Review, January.. 
Body and Raiment (Review of Mrs. Tietjens* book). Poetry, 

A Magazine of Verse, February. 
Idiosyncrasy and Tradition (Poems of Francis Ledwidge). 

The Died, March. 
Two Views of Contemporary Poetry. The Yale Review, 
January. 
Adams, Franklin P. Next to Reading Matter. The New 

Republic, Mar. 24. 
Aldington, Richard. A London Letter (on Poets and Poetry). 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January. 
A Book for Literary Philosophers. (Ezra Pound). Poetry, 

A Magazine of Verse, July. 
Campion's "Observations." Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

February. 
English and American. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

May. 
Recent French Poetry. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
October, 1919. 
Alexander, Hartley Burr. The Poetry of the American 

Indian. The Nation, Dec. 13, 1919. 
Ambram, Beulah B. Heine and the Germans. The North 

Ameriban Review, January. 
Anderson, John Davis. In Praise of the Greatness of Thomas 

Hardy. The Boston Transcript, June 2. 
Anon. Masefield*s Yarn of the Sea ("Enslaved"). The 
New York Times Review of Books, July 11. 
v-^ Hilda Conkling. The Christian Science Monitor, June 30,. 
/^The Poets and the Peace. The Nation, Oct. 4, 1919.- — 
A Unique Collection of Chinese Verse. The N, Y, Times 

Book Review, Aug. 24, 1919. 
Young America and Milton. Scribner*s Magazine, June. 
Five Recent Volumes of Verse (Ballads of Old New York, 
Golden Whales of California, Songs of the Cattle Trail 

161 



> 
/ 
> 



and Cow Camp, Songs of Seeking and Finding, Hail, 
Man). The OuUook, Apr. 21. 

A Belated Review (Don Marquis). The Outlook, Feb. 18. 

Christopher Morley. The OuUook, Feb. 4. 

A Poet*s Birthday (Edwin Arlington Robinson). The 
Outlook, Dec. 24, 1919. 

A Trian^e of Poets, (Masefield, Amy Lowell, John Drink- 
water). The Outlook, Dec. S, 1919. 

The New Era in American Poetry. The Outlook, Aug. 
27 1919. 

Kipling's Latest Word. The Outlook, Sept. 24, 1919. 

Beers, Henry A. The Singer of the Old Swimmin' Hole 

(James Whitcomb Riley). The Yale Review, January. 
Ben6t, William Rose. Importry and Exportry. Harper's 

Magazine, January. 
Blackwell, Alice Stone. A Spanish-American Poet. The 

Stratford Journal, August, 1919. 
Black, John. Walt Whitman: Fiction- Writer and Poets* 
FViend. The Bookman, April. 
1920: The Minor Poets' Centenary Year. The Bookman, 
May. 
Blum, W. G. Rimbaud as Magician. The Dial, June. 
Bunker, John. A New English Poet. The Bookman, January. 
^.^JBurr, Amelia Josephine. The Expanded Interest in Poetry. 
^^ September, 1919. 

Butler, Ellis Parker. A New Poet of Nature. The Bookman, 

April. 
Bodenheim, Maxwell. Modern Poetry. The Dial, January. 
The Poetry Quibble. The North American Review, Novem- 
ber, 1919. 
Bradford, Gamaliel, Portrait of Sidney Lanier. The North 

American Review, June. 
Braithwaite, William Stanley. The Lyric Quality of Robert 
Hillyer. The Boston Transcript, June 5. 
A Poetical Voice from the Wilderness. The Boston Tran- 
script, Mar. 6. 
A Year- Round Treasury of Child Verse (Annette's Wynne's 
"For Days and Days"). The Boston Transcript, Oct. 
18, 1919. 
The Personality of Cecil Roberts. The Boston Transcript, 

Jan. 24. 
A Lyrical Voice from Missouri (George O'Neil). The 

Boston Transcript, Feb. 21. 
The Arthurian Legend in Poetry (E. A. Robinson's "Lance- 
lot"). The Boston Transcript, June 12. 
A Poet with the Harvard Hall Mark (Ernest Benshimol). 

The Boston Transcript, June 19. 
The Poetic Advance of Francis Carlin. The Boston Tran- 
script, May 22. 

162 



h 



The Romantic Lore of the Red Man (Lew Sareti's " Many, 

Many Moons**). The Boston Transcript, May 8. 
The Golden Whales of California (Vachel Lindsay). The 

Boston Transcript, Apr. 17. 
The Art of a Young American Poet (Winifred Welles). 

The Boston Transcript, Apr. S. 
Siegfried Sassoon*s Grim Irony. The Boston Transcript, 

Apr. 24. 
A Spiritual Biography (Jacopone da Todi. Poet and 

Mystic--1228-1306). The Boston Transcript, March IS. 
A Bay for E. A. Robinson. The Brooklyn Eagle, Mar. 27. 

Carnevali, Emanuel. Irritation (A Pounding of Pound). • 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, January. 
Chew, Samuel C. A Poet Turns Critic (Sir Henry Newbolt's 

"A New Study of English Poetry*'). The Yale Review, 

July. 
Cloyd, Eunice. Caliban's Love-Making (review of Aiken's 

"Scepticism"). Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February. 
Cline, Leonard Lanson. Three Anthologies of Modern Verse. 

The Detroit Sunday News, Apr. 18. 
Courtney, Mrs. W. S. Lesser Literary Lights (Felicia Hemans, 

Caroline Bowles and Charlotte Smith). The North 

American Review, June. 
Garret, M. Baudelaire Translated. The New Republic, 

June 9. 
Colum, Padraic. Amy Lowell and the Poetry of Pictures. 

The New Republic, July 7. 
New English Poets. The New Republic, July 21. 
Three Younger Poets (Francis Ledwidge, George O'Neil, 

Scudder Middleton). The New Republic, Apr. 7. 

D., C. V. Tragedy in Camelot (E. A. Robinson's "Lancelot"). 

The Nation, May 8. 
De Casseres, Benjamin. The Poems of Herbert French. 

The Bookman, March; Van Nopper, Homer of Our Fleet, 

The Bookman, September, 1919. 
Deutsch, Babette. Eastern Lights (" Colored Stars, Versions 

of Fifty Asiatic Poems,** "Black Marigolds," by E. 

Powys Mathers). The Dial, March. . 

Free Verse and Certain Strictures. The Bookman, January.^ 
A New Light on Lancelot (E. A. Robinson). Poetry, A 

Magazine of Verse, July. 
Delgado, Frederick Pearce. Louis Bertrand, A Study in 

Artistic Personality. The North American Review, June. 
Drinkwater, John. The Full Circle of Masefield's Art. The 

Yale Review, April. 
Dunn, Esther Cloudman. Longfellow the Teacher. The North 

American Review, February. 

163 



"E. A." — A Milestone for America (Percy MacKaye). 

The North American Retriew, January. 
Ervine, St. John. W. B. Yeats — II (Some Impressions of 

My Elders). The North American Review, March. 
Yeats (Some Impressions of My Elders). The North 

American Review, January. 
John Drinkwater. The North American Review, November, 

1919. 
Elliott, G. R. The Neighborliness of Robert Frost. The Nation, 

Dec. 6, 1919. 

Fletcher, John Gould. Thomas Hardy*s Poetry, An American 
View. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, April. 
The Structure of Chinese Poetry (Arthur Waley's transla- 
tions from the Chinese). The Dial, February. 

Fuller, Henry B. The American Image. Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, March. 

Freer, Agnes. Cammserts Again. Poetry, A Magazine of 
Verse, September, 1919. 

Garrison, Theodosia. Ella Wheeler Wilcox, The Woman. 

The Bookman, January. 
Gammans, Harold W. Rhythmus and the Writer. The 

Writer* s Monthly, January. 
Gorman, Herbert S. The Various Bynner. The New York 

Evening Post Book Review (Poetry Number), June 19. 
^^eorgians These, Not Cavaliers (Graves, Lawrence, Some 

Soldier Poets). The New York Times Book Review, July 4. 
w<A Few Remarks About Newspaper Verse. The Writer's 

Monthly, November, 1919. 
Edwin Arlington Robinson, and a Talk With Him. N» Y. 

Sun Books and Book World, Jan. 4. 
Goldring, Douglas. James Elroy Flecker (An Appreciation 

and Some Personal Memories). The Dial, May. 
Gibbs, A. Hamilton. Poets of the New Patriotism. The New 

Republic, Mar. 17. 
Greene, Constance Murray. Poetry Books Manifold. The 

Bookman, February. 

Hackett, Francis. Reynard the Fox (John Masefield). The 

New Republic, Jan. 7. 
Hartley, Marsden. The Business of Poetry. Poetry, A Maga- 
zine of Verse, December, 1919. 
J^^Harper, George McLean. French Feeling in War Poetry. 
^''^ The Yale Review, January. 

Henderson, Alice Corbin. A Note on Primitive Poetry. Poetry, 
A Magazine of Verse, September, 1919. 
Science and Art Again. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
January. 

164 



An Irish Harp (Norreys Jephson O* Conor). Poetry, A 
Magasine of Verse, September, 1919. 
Hubbell, J. B. Wordsworth, Imagist. The New York Evening 
Post Book Retfiew (Poetry Number), June 19. 
)v Hughes, Helen Sard. Making Heaven Safe for Democracy. ^ 
^^^^^C (An interesting essay on political and patriotic hym- ^ 
oology.) The Dial, January. 

Jenckes, Jr., E. N. Limitations of Free Verse, The WrUer^s -^ 
Monthly, February. 

K., A. Comedy Over Tragedy (Marjorie A. Seiffert). Poetry, 

A Magazine of Verse, July. 
Kelly, Mus. D., F. J. Shakespeare and the Art of Music. 

The Catholic World, January. 
Kreymborg, Alfred. Touring America on Pegasus. Poetry, 

A Magazine of Verse, May. 

Lawrence, D. H. The Poetry of the Present. The New York 
Evening Post Book Review (Poetry Number), June 19. 

Lappin, Henry A. Poetry, Verse, and Worse. The Bookman, 
April. 
A New American Poet. The Bookman, November-Decem- 
ber, 1919. 

Lewisohn, Ludwig. Richard Dehmel. The Nation, Mar. 6. 

Lowell, Amy. Mr. Lindsay's Latest Venture. The New York 
Tim>es Book Review, May 16. 

Loving, Pierre. The Tragedy of Horace Traubel. The New 
York Evening Post Book Review (Poetry Number), June 19. 

Long, Haniel. Mr. Bynner's Philosophy of Love. Poetry, A 
Magazine of Verse, February. 

L., R. Charles Sorley (Letters). The New Republic, July 21. 

MacBeath, Francb J. With Poets New and Old. The Writer's 

Monthly, September-October, 1919. 
McCourtie, William B. If I Were a Young Poet. The Writer's 

Monthly, December, 1919. 
Marks, Jeannette. Swinburne: A Study in Pathology. The 

Yale Review, January. 
Maynard, Theodore. The Poetry of Charles Williams. The 

North American Review, September, 1919. 
The Chesterbelloc. The Catholic World, November- 
December, 1919, January-February. 
Monahan, Michael. Edwin Markham s Poetry, The Stratford 

Journal, September, 1919. 
Monroe, Harriet. Two Child Poets (Hilda Conkling, and 

Katherine Bull). Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July. 
Dr. Chubb on the Platform (Comments on Dr. Paul Shorey 

lecture on poets and poetry). Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse, July. 

165 



/ What Next? (Reaections on "Poetry" Seventh Birthday). 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, October, 1919. 
Waley's Translations from the Chinese. Poetry, A Maga^ 

zine of Verse, March. 
Those We Refuse (an editor's confession concerning verse- 
rejections). Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March. 
Mr. Yeats and the Poetic Drama. Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse, April. 
Mr. Robinson's Jubilee (on the occasion of Edwin Arlington 

Robinson's fiftieth birthday). Poetry, A Magazine of 

Verse, February. 
Miss Cromwell's Poems. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

May. 
King George's Poets. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 
In the Old Fashion (Walter de la Mare). Poetry, A Magazine 

of Verse, September, 1919. 
Celestial Jazz (Mr. Lindsay's "Golden Whales of Cali- 
fornia")- Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, May. 
A Scientist's Challenge. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 

December, 1919. 
A Lincoln Primer (Drinkwater's "Lincoln"). Poetry, A 

Magazine of Verse, December, 1919. 
A Lover of Earth (Mr. Wheelock's "Dust and Light"). 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March. 
Morley, Christopher. Walter de la Mare on Rupert Brooke. 

The Bookman, April. 
Munsterberg, Margarete. Santayana. The Nation, July 5» 

1919. 
Francis Thompson, A Poet's Poet. The Catholic World, 

September, 1919. 

Netzer, A. May. The Poetry of Ernest Dowson. The Texas 

Review, April. 
Neff, Marietta. The Place of Henley. The North American 

Review, April. 
NichoU, Louise Townsend. Three Months of Poetry. The 

New York Evening Post Book Review, (Poetry Number), 

June 19. 

Oppenheim, James. One of Our Sun-Gods (Walt Whitman). 
The Dial, May. 
^ • — Poetry — Our First National Art. The Dial, February. 
O'Hagan, Thomas. French-Canadian Poets and Poetry. 
The Catholic World, December, 1919. 

Passos, John Dos. Antonio Machado: Poet of Castile. The 

Dial, June. 
Peck, H. W. The Criticism of Poetry. The Mid-West Quarterly, 

January. 

166 



Powys, John Cowper. The Actual Walt Whitman. The 
New York Evening Poet Book Review (Poetry Number). 
June 19. 

Purdie, Albert B. Macbeth — A Study in Sin. The Catholic 
Worlds November, 1919. 

Quinn, Arthur Hobson. Pilgrim and Puritan in Literature. 

Scribner*8 Magazine, May. \ 

Reilly, Ph. D. Joseph J. A Keltic Poe (Fitz- James O'Brien). 

The Catholic World, March. 
Ridge, Lola. Covered Roads (Study of Robert Frost). The 

New Republic, June 28. 
Rueffner, Louise M. The Poet and the City. A Characteristic 

Tendency of the Modern Muse. The New York Evening 

Post Book Review (Poetry Number), June 19. 
Roosevelt, Kermit. Edwin Arlington Robinson. Scribner*8 

Magazine, December, 1919. 
R., O. Gladys Cromwell's Poems. The New Republic, Mar. 10. 
Roth, Samuel. Edwin Arlington Robinson. The Bookman, 

January. 
Royster, James Finch. Mr. Alfred Noyes and the Literary 

Rebels. The Texas Review, October, 1919. 

S., M. A. The Floating World (review of Miss Lowell's latest 
book). Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, March. 
Rare Air (G. P. Warren). Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, 
January. 
Sapir, Edward. Note on French-Canadian Folk-Songs. 

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, July. 
Schauffler, Margaret Widdemer. In the Treatment of Poets. 

The Bookman, November-December, 1919. 
Scott, Evelyn. Emilio de Menezes (Brazilian Poet). Poetry, 

A Magazine of Verse, April. 
SeiflFert, Marjorie Allen. Starved Rock (E. L. Masters). 
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June. 
Soldier and Lover (Richard Aldington). Poetry, A Magazine 
of Verse, September, 1919. 
Shanks, Edward. An English Lyrist (J. C. Squire). The Dial, 

January. 
Shay, Frank. Whitman's Publishers. The New York Evening 

Post Book Review, (Poetry Number), June 19. 
Sinclair, May. The Reputation of Ezra Pound. The North 
American Review, May. 
. Smith, Geddes. Reynard the Fox. The New Republic, Jan. 7. 

y^ Strobel, Marion. Out of the Den (Siegfried Sassoon). Poetry,^ 

^ A Magazine of Verse, June. 

Perilous Leaping. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, June. 
\^ Stanton, Theodore. French War Poetry. The Mid-West — 
^\ Quarterly, January. 

167 



Stork, Charles Wharton. Review of Magazine Verse of 
Year. Philadelphia Public Ledger, Dec. 28, 1919. 
Recent Verse, The Yale Review, AprU. 
Symons, Arthur. Baudelaire and His Letters. The North 
American Review, September, 1919. 
A Jester with Genius (Oscar WUde). The Bookman, April. 
Coventry Patmore. The North American Review, February. 
Thomas Hardy. The Dial, January, 

Taketomo, Torao. American Imitations of Japanese Poetry. 

The Nation, Jan. 17. 
y/^ Tinker, Chauncey B. British Poetry Under Stress of War. 

The Yale Review, July. 
Swinburne Once More. The Yale Review, January. 
Trombly, Albert Edmund. Rossetti Studies: The Lyric. 

The South Atlantic Quarterly, October, 1919. 
Trueblood, Charles K. Skepticism as Illumination, (Aiken's 

"Scepticisms: Notes on Contemporary Poetry"). The 

Dial, AprU. 

Untermeyer, Louis. The Hesitant Heart (by Winifred Welles). 
The New Republic, June 30. 
A Note on the Poetry of Love. The New Republic, May 26. 
Woodrovian Poetry, 1922-1923. The New Republic, Dec. 

24, 1919. 
" Sweetness and Light. " The Dial, April. 
The Lyric Line (John Hall Wheelock's "Dust and Light"). 
The Bookman, March. 
K-. V^ Aftermath (Picture Show, by S. Sassoon) . The New Republic 
^ Mar. 3. 

Van Dyke, Henry. Poems of Robert Underwood Johnson. 

The Boston Transcript, Feb. 14. 
Vanderpyl, Fritz R. Art and Eiffel Towers. Poetry, A Maga- 
\ vine oj Verse, May. 

Wyatt, Edith. Whitman and Anne Gilchrist. The North 

American Review, September, 1919. 
Kipling Today. Poetry, A Magazine of Verse, February. 
Whicher, George F. Edward Thomas. The Yale Review, April. 
Wilkinson, Marguerite. Poetry of Last Year and Today. 

Mar. 28. 



168 



VOLUMES OF POEMS PUBLISHED 
DURING 1919-1920 

Adams, Franklin P. Something Else Again, Doubleday, Page 

and Co. « 

Allen, William Frederick. Monographs^ The Four Seas Co. 
Andrews, John. Editor: The Yale Book of Student Verse, 

With an Introduction by Charlton M. Lewis. Yale 

University Press. 
Babcock, William H. Legends of the New World. Richard G. 

Badger. 
Bailey, John. A Day-Book of Walter Savage Landor, Oxford 

University Press. 
Barker, Helen Granville. Songs in Cities and Gardens, G. P. 

Putman's Sons. 
Barney, Danforth. Chords from Albireo. With a Foreword by 

Lawrence Mason. John Lane Co. 
Barr, Amelia E. Songs in the Common Chord. With an Intro- 
duction by Joseph C. Lincoln. D. Appleton and Co. 
Barrett, Wilton Agnew. Songs from the Journey. George H. 

Doran Co. 
Ben6t, Stephen Vincent. Editor: The Yale Book of Student 

Verse, With an Introduction by Charlton M. Lewis. 

Yale University Press. 
Bennet, Raine. After the Day, A Collection of Post-War 

Impressions. With an Introduction by George Douglas. 

The Stratford Co. 
Bennett, Marguerite Hope. Prelude, The Neale Publishing 

Co. 
Benshimol, Ernest. Tomorrow's Yesterday, Small, Maynard 

and Co. 
Boni, Albert. The Modern Book of French Verse. In English 

Translations by Chaucer, Francis, Thompson, Stoinburne, 

Arthur Symons, Robert Bridges, John Payne, and others, 

Boni and Liveright. 
Bowman, Archibald Allen. Sonnets from a Prison Camp, John 

Lane Co. 
Brady, E. J. The House of the Winds. Dodd, Mead and Co. 
Braithwaite, William Stanley. The Book of Modern British 

Verse, Small, Maynard and Co. 

169 



Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1919 and Year Book of 
American Poetry. Small, Maynard and Co. 

Buck, Howard. The Tempering (in Yale Series of Younger 
Poets). Yale University Press. 

Burt, Maxwell Struthers. Songs and Portraits, Charles 

Scribner*s Sons. 
Cabot, Elise Pumpelly. Arizona, and Other Poems, £. P. 

Dutton and Co. 
Carlin, Francis. The Cairn of Stars. Henry Holt and Co. 
Carter, Laura Armistead. Wind and Blue Water, The Corn- 
hill Co. 
Chanler, Alida. Songs and Sonnets. The Cornhill Co. 
Claudel, Paul. Three Poems of the War. Translated into 

English Verse by Edward J. 0*Brien. Ytde University 

Press. 
Clinton, Scollard. War Voices and Memories. Being Verses 

Written During the Years 1817'18'19. James T. White Co. 
Coles, Rutgers Remsen. Rapid and Still Water. The Stratford 

Co. 
Cone, Helen Gray. The Coat Without a Seam. E. P. Dutton 

and Co. 
Conkling, Grace Hazard. Wilderness Songs. Henry Holt and 

Co. 
Conkling, Hilda. Poems by a Little Girl. Preface by Amy 

Lowell. Frederick A. Stokes Co. 
Coutts, Francis. The Spacious Tim^s, and Other Poems, 

John Lane Co. 
Cromwell, Gladys. Poems. With an Introduction by Padraic 

Colum. The MacmUlan Co. 
Crowell, Joshua Freeman. Outdoors and In. The Four Seas Co. 
Cushman, Silvia. Facts and Fancies. Published by the Author. 

Davidson, Gustav. Songs of Adoration. New York: The 

Madrigal. 
Davies, Mary Carolyn. Youth Riding. The Macmillan Co. 
de Acosta, Mercedes. Moods. Prose Poems. Moffat, Yard 

and Co. 
de la Mare, Walter. A Book of Drawings by Pamelia 

Blanco, with Illustrative Poems by Walter de la Mare. 

J. B. Lippincott Co. 
DeStein, E. The Poets in Picardy, E. P. Dutton and Co. 
Dougall, Lily. Acades Amho. Longmans, Green and Co. 
Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan. The Guards Came Through, and 

Other Poems. George H. Doran Co. 

Edwards, Arthur M. The Conversation of Kaiser William, or 
Antitoxin to Prussian Propaganda. Published by the 
Author. 

170 



Eddy, Ruth Basset. Altar Fires. The CornhUl Co: 

Eliot, T. S. Poems, Alfred A. Knopf. 

Enlow, Lucile C. The Heart of a Oirl The Stratford Co. 

Farrar, John Chipman. Forgotten Shrines, (Yale Series of 

Younger Poets.) Yale University Press. 
Farrar, John C. Editor. The Yale Book of Student Verse, With 

an Introduction by Charlton M. Lewis. Yale University 

Press. 
Fleiur-De-Lys. A Book of French Poetry Freely Translated into 

English Verse, with an Introduction and Notes by Wilfrid 

Thorley. Houghton Mifflin Co. 

Georgian Poetry 1918-1919. G. P. Putman's Sons. 
Guiterman, Arthur. Ballads of Old New York. Harper and 
Brothers. 

Hamilton, Mary Gertrude. Lights and Shadows. The Strat- 
ford Co. 

Harbert, Blanche E. The Good Cheer Book (Anthology). 
Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Co. 

Hawkins, Walter Everette. Chords and Discords. Richard G. 
Badger. 

Herbert, A. P. The Bomber Gipsy, and Other Poems. Alfred 
A. Knopf. 

Hilly er, Robert. The Five Books of Youth. Brentano's. 

Holloway, John Wesley. From the Desert. The Neale Publish- 
ing Co. 

Hooker, Brian. A. D. 1919. A Commemorative Poem. Set 
to Music by Horatio Parker. Yale University Press. 

Hough, Lynn Harold. Flying Over London. The Abington 
Press. 

Hughes, Adelaide Manola. Diantha Goes the Primrose Way. 
Harper and Brothers. 

Hughs, Fannie May Barbee. Fragments. Essays and Poems. 
Boston: Christopher Publishing House. 

Johns, Orrick. Black Branches. A Book of Poems and Plays, 
New York: Pagan Publishing Co. 

Johnson, Robert Underwood. Poems, 1881-1919, Yale 
University Press. 

Jones, Herbert. The Well of Being. John Lane Co. 

Jones, Joshua Henry. The Heart of the World. The Stratford 
Co. 

Jordan, Clarence Lumpkin. Trench Tales. The Neale Publish- 
ing Co. 

Keith, Henrietta Jewett. Four 0* Clocks. Minneapolis, 
Minn. Augsburg Publishing House. 

171 



Keeler, Charles. Sequoia Sonnets, Published at the Sign of 
the Live Oak, Berkeley, Cal. 

Kerr, R. Watson. War Daubs: Poems. John Lane Co. 

Kip, A. L. Poems. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 

Kipling, Rudyard. Verse, Induswe Edition 1885-1918. Double- 
day, Page and Co. 

Koopman, Harry Lyman. Hesperia. An American National 
Poem, I'VI. The Preston and Rounds Co., Providence, 
R. I. 

Krauth, Charles Philip. Ahno. The Cornhill Co. 

Kyger, John Fremont. No-Wa-Na. An Indian Tale Told in 
Verse. Chicago: Front Publishing Co. 

Lanouette, Joseph Edward. Jean Rivard. The Cornhill Co. 
Ledwidge, Francis. Complete Poem^. With Introductions by 

Lord Dunsany. Brentano's. 
Lincoln, Elliot C. Rhymes of a Homesteader. Houghton Mifflin 

Co. 
Lindsay, Vachel. The Golden Whales oj California and Other 

Rhymes in the American Language. The Macmillan Co. 
Lomax, John A. Songs of he Cattle Trail and Cow Camp 

(Collection). With a Foreword by William Lyon Phelps. 

The Macmillan Co. 
Low, Mary Cromwell. The Lode Star. James T. White Co. 

McCloskey, George V. A. Lyrics. The Neale Publishing Co. 
McManus, Joseph D. The Might of Manhattan. New York: 

Charles Francis Press. 
MacKaye, Percy. Rip Van Winkle. Folk-Opera in Three Acts. 

Music by Reginald de Koven. Alfred A. Knopf. 
Mann, Dorothea Lawrance. An Acreage of Lyric. The Corn- 
hill Co. 
Marsh, Elizabeth H. Body and Soul. The Cornhill Co. 
Masefield, John. The Everlasting Mercy and the Widow in the 

Bye Street (Illustrated Edition). The Macmillan Co. 
Miles, Susan. Dunch. Longmans, Green and Co. 
Millen, William A. Songs of the Irish Revolution, and Songs of 

the Newer Ireland. The Stratford Co. 
Misrow, Sri Jogesh Chander. Usha Songita. Songs of the 

Dawn. With an Introduction. Chicago : Published by the 

Author. 
Morgan, Angela. Hail, Man! John Lane Co. 

Nelson, Dora. A Farm in Picardy. The Cornhill Co. 

O'Neil, George. The Cobbler in Willow Street. Boni and 
Liveright. 

172 



Palamas, Kostes. Life Immovable, First Part. Translated 
with Introduction and Notes, by Aristides E. Phoutrides. 
Harvard University Press. 

Poems of Tennyson. Chosen and Edited by Henry van Dyke. 
Charles Scribner's Sons. 

Poems of John R. Thompson. Edited with a Biographical 
Introduction by John S. Patton. Charles Scribner's Sons. 

Pratt, Harry Noyes. HiU Trails and Open Sky. A Book of 
California Verse. San Francisco: Harr Wagner Publish- 
ing Co. 

Proudfoot, Andrea Hofer. Trolley Lines. Ralph Fletcher 
Seymour. 

Pushkin, Alexander Sergyeyevich. Boris Oodunov. A Drama 
in Verse. Rendered into English Verse by Alfred Hayes» 
with Preface by C. Nabokoff. E. P. Dutton and Co. 

Roberts, Cecil. Poems. With a Preface by John Masefield. 

Frederick A. Stokes Co. 
Robinson, Edwin Arlington. Lancelot. Thomas Seltzer. 
Roth, Samuel. Europe: A Boqk for America. Boni and 

Liveright. 
Ryan, Agnes. A Whisper of Fire. The Four Seas Co. 

Sampter, Jessie E. The Coming of Peace. New York: Pub- 
lishers Printing Co. 
Sanger, Jr. William Cary. Verse. G. P. Putman's Sons. 
Sangster, Margaret E. Cross Roads. New York: IVank F. 

Lovell. 
Sarett, Lew. Many Many Moons. Henry Holt and Co. 
Sassoon, Siegfried. Picture-Show. E. P. Dutton and Co. 
SeiflFert, Marjorie Allen. A Woman of Thirty, and Poem^ hy 

Elijah Hay. Alfred A. Knopf. 
Seymour, W. Kean. Editor. A Miscellany of British Poetry ^ 

1919. Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 
Shanks, Edward. * The Queen of China, and other Poems. Alfred 

A. Knopf. 
Sharpe, Theodore. My Place in the Shade, and Various Verse. 

Richard G. Badger. 
Sheldon, Gilbert. Acades Ambo. Longmans, Green and Co. 
Sieveking, Captain L. de G. Dressing Gowns and Glue. With 

an Introduction about the Verses by G. K. Chesterton. 

Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 
Steel, Willis. Parerga. New York: McElvoy Co. 
Steiner, Rudolph. Four Mystery Plays. 2 Vols. G. P. 

Put man's Sons. 
Still, John. Poems in Captivity. John Lane Co. 

Tebbutt, A. E. Russian Lyrical Poetry. An Anthology of the 
Best Nineteenth Century Lyrics. Selected, and Arranged 
with Notes. E. P. Dutton and Co. 

173 



Temple, Ana. The Kneeling Camel, and Other Poems, Moffat, 

Yard and Co. 
The Poems of OUbert White, With an Introduction by Sir 

Herbert Warren. The Macmillan Co. 
Tucker, Allen. There and Here. Duffield and Co. 
Turner, W. J. The Dark Wind. E. P. Dutton and Co. 

Underwood, Edna Worthley . Moons of Nippon, Translations 

from Poets of Old Japan. Ralph Fletcher Seymour. 
Underwood, Pierson. Editor. The Yale Book of Student Verse, 

With an Introduction by Charlton M. Lewb. Yale 

University Press. 
Untermeyer, Louis. Modern American Poetry (Anthology). 

Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 

Valour and Vision. Poems of the War 1914-1918, Arranged 

and Edited by Jacqueline T. Trotter. Longmans, 

Green and Co. 
Van Dyke, Tertius. Songs of Seeking and Finding. Charles 

Scribner*s Sons. 
Vansittart, Robert. The Singing Caravan. A Sufi Tale. 

George H. Doran Co. 
Vernon, Lucile. Mephistopheles Puffeth the Sun Out, The 

Stratford Co. 
Von Hofmannsthal, Hugo. The Death of Titian. Translated 

from the German by John Head, Jr. The Four Seas Co. 

Waley, Arthur. More Translations from the Chinese. Alfred 

A. Knopf. 
Walsh, Thomas. Don Folquet, and Other Poems, John Lane Co. 
Welles, \Vinifred. The Hesitant Heart. B. W. Huebsch. 
Wentworth, Edward C. Scattered Leaves. From My Diary, 

1915-1919. Chicago: Published by the Author. 
Whitcomb, George Faunce. Eagle QuiUs. The Cornhill Co. 
Whitin, Cora Berry. Wounded Words. The Four Seas Co. 
Widdemer, Margaret. The Haunted Hour, An Anthology. 

Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 
Wood, Clement. Jehovah. E. P. Dutton and Co. 
Woodberry, George Edward. The Roamer, and Other Poems, 

Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 

Yanks A. E. F. in Verse. Originally Published in The Stars 
and Stripes, G. P. Putman's Sons. 



174 



A SELECT LIST OP BOOKS ABOUT POETS 

AND POETRY 

Aiken, Conrad. Skepticism, Notes on Contemporary Poetry. 
Alfred A. Knopf. 

Bazalgette, Leon. Walt Whitman, The Man and His Work. 
Translated from the French by Ellen FitzGerald. Double- 
day, Page and Co. 

Bradford, Gamaliel. Portraits of American Women (Emily 
Dicldnson). Houghton Mifflin Co. 

Bridgman, Helen Bartlett. Within My Horizon (includes 
recollections of American poets) . Small, May nar d and Co. 

Bugbee, Lucius H. Flutes of Silence {Verses by Emily Bugbee). 
The Methodist Book Concern. 

Campbell, Oscar James. The Position of the Roode En Witte 
Roos in the Saga of King Richard III. The University 
Of Wisconsin. 

Cotterill, H. B. Italy fron Dante to Tasso. Frederick A. 
Stokes Co. 

Davies, Trevor H. Spiritual Voices in Modern Literature 
(Ibsen, Francis Thompson, Tennyson, etc.). George 
H. Doran Co. 

de la Mare, Walter. Rupert Brooke and the Intellectual Imag^ 
inaiion. Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 

Furness, Horace Howard. ** The Gloss of Youth.** An Imag- 
inary Episode in the Lives of William Shakespeare and 
John Fletcher. J. B. Lippincott Co. 
The Life and Death of King John. New Variorum Edition 
of Shakespeare. J. B. Lippincott Co. ^^ 

Gardner, Charles. William Blake, The Man, E. P. Duttonand 

Co. 
Gerould, Katharine Fullerton. Modes and Morals (chapter on 

Kipling). Charles Scribner's Sons. 

175 



Goldberff, Isaac. Studies in Spanish-American Literature* 
With an Introduction by Prof. J. D. M. Ford. 
Brentano's. 

Instigations of Ezra Pound. Together with an Essay on the 
Chinese Written Character by Ernest FenoUosa. Boni 
and Liveright. 

Jackson,^ A. V. Williams. Early Persian Poetry. From the 
Beginning Down to the Time of Firdausi, The Macmillan 
Co. 

Keiser» Albert. *The Influence of Christianity on the VocahU' 
lary of Old English Poetry. Published by the University 
of Illinois. 

Kernahan, Coulson. Swinburne as I Knew Him. With 
Some Unpublished Letters from the Poet to his Cousin the 
Hon. Lady Henniker Heaton. John Lane Co. 

Magnus, Laurie. A General Sketch of European Literature. 

In the Centuries of Romance (includes studies of poetry). 

E. P. Dutton and Co. 
Mitchell, Roy. Shakespeare for Community Players. E. P. 

Dutton and Co. 

Olgin, Moissaye J. A Guide to Russian Literature, 1820-1917* 
Harcourt, Brace and Howe. 

Prescott, F. C. Poetry and Dreams. The Four Seas Co. 

Smith, G. Gregory. Ben Jonson. English Men of Letters 
Series. The Macmillan Co. 

The Letters of Charles Sorley. With a Chapter of Biography. 
The Macmillan Co. 

Underbill, Evelyn. Jacopone da Todi. Poet and Mystic* 
E. P. Dutton and Co. 

Van Dyke, Henry. Studies in Tennyson. Charles Scribner's 
Sons. 

Ward, Sir A. W. Shakespeare and the Makers of Virginia* 

Annual Shakespeare Lecture, the British Academy. 

Yale University Press. 
Whibley, Charles. Literary Studies (including poetic studies). 

The Macmillan Co. 
Wilde, Oscar. A Critic in PaU Mall. Reviews and Miscd' 

lanies. G. P. Putman's Sons. 
Williams, Stanley T. The Life of Timon of Athens. The 

Yale Shakespeare Series. Yale University Press. 

176 



INDEX OF FIRST LINE 

Across the school-ground it would start. 

William Rose Benet 99 

A flitting benediction of words. 

Maxwell Bodenheim 60 

A lonely lake, a lonely shore. 

Lew Sabett 15 

A man may think wild things under the moon. 

Raymond Holden 17 

Ah, how I pity the young dead who gave. 

Edith Whabton 98 

Although I saw before me there the face. 

Edwin Ablinoton Robinson ... 88 
All night the crickets chirp. 

Leonoba Speteb 28 

Be quiet, worker in my breast. 

SCUDDEB MiDDLETON 95 

Bed is the boon for me. 

AoNES Lee 79 

Behind the high white wall. 

Ida 0*Neil . 54 

Bees, go tell the things he treasured. 

Daniel Hendebson 95 

Boo-shoo! Boo-shoo! 

Lew Sabett 105 

Chrbt said, " Mary,'* as he walked within the garden. 

Maby Cabolyn Davies .... 50 
Dearest, we are like two flowers. 

Amy Lowell SO 

Even as a hawk's in the large heaven's hollow. 

John Hall Wheelock S6 

Even when all my body sleeps. 

Louis Ginsbebo 22 

Every year Emily Dickinson sent one friend. 

Cabl Sandbubo 75 

Forgive me not! Hate me and I shall know. 

LiLLA Cabot Pebby 90 

Four faces in the dark. 

Habold Tbowbbidoe Pulsifeb . . 59 

177 



God has such a splendid way. 

Louise Aybes Garnett • . . • 10 
Gray are the gardens of our Celtic lands. 

Walteb Adolphe Roberts ... 56 
Green golden door, swing in, swing in. 

Jeannette Marks 25 

He did not know that he was dead. 

Harrt Kemp 96 

Her faith abandoned and her place despised. 

Edoar Lee Masters 68 

Her footsteps fall in silent sands. 

Maurice Browne SI 

Her eyes are sunlit hazel. 

Sarah N. Cleohorn 46 

Her eyes hold black whips. 

Alfred Kreymborg 47 

Her scant skirt spreads above her knees. 

Vine McCasland 84 

How far is it to Babylon? 

Margaret Adelaide Wilson . . 55 
I am a dancer. When I pray. 

Amanda Benjamin Hall .... 9 
I am afraid to go into the woods. 

Leonora Speyer 15 

I am weighed down beneath a clustering load. 

Charles Wharton Stork . . . .118 
I cannot put you away. 

Herbebt S. Gobman 88 

I come singing the keen sweet smell of grass. 

Jacob Auslandeb 14 

I do not kneel at night, to say a prayer. 

Kathabine McCluskey .... 9 
I have made grief a gorgeous, queenly thing. 

WiNiFBED Welles 98 

I have on mine no likeness. 

Winifred Welles 89 

I have seen this city in the day and the sun. 

Carl Sandburg 62 

I must have passed the crest a while ago. 

Sara Teasdale 90 

I never met the Spring alone before. 

Caroline Giltinan 82 

I thought of you and how you love this beauty. 

Sara Teasdale 42 

I saw by looking in his eyes. 

Edwin Arlington Robinson ... 71 
I slumbered with your poems on my breast. 

RoBEBT Fbost 98 

I watch the farmers in their fields. 

William Alexandeb Pebcy ... 24 

178 



I walked my fastest down the twilight street. 

John Erskine 58 

I, who fade with the lilacs. 

William Griffith 91 

I, who laughed my youth away. 

William Griffith 29 

If I could sing the song of dawn. 

Leonora Speyer 14 

If there is any life when death is over. 

Sara Teasdalb 43 

If what we fought for seems not worth the fighting. 

Hamilton Fish Armstrong . . .117 
It swoops gray-winged across the obliterated hills. 

Leonora Speyer 22 

It's just a heap of ruin. 

Louisa Brooke 60 

It's little I care what path I take. 

Edna St. Vincent Millay ... 35 
In the dark night I heard a stirring. 

Leonora Speyer 68 

IVe brung you my three babes, that lost their Maw a year ago. 

Ann Cobb 81 

Let the ghoist of the brave be carried away. 

Nelson Antrim Crawford . . .107 
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten. 

Sara Teasdale 43 

Light your cigarette, then, in this shadow. 

Conrad Aiken 53 

Lilith, LUith wept for the moon. 

Herbert S. Gorman ..... 45 
Like wine grown stale, the street-lamp's pallor seeks. 

Maxwell Bodenheim S5 

"Lot 65: John Keats to Fanny Brawne." 

Louis Untermeyer 86 

Love» we have dipped Life's humble bread. 

J. Corson Miller 26 

Make of my voice a blue-edged sword. Oh, Lord! 

Marya Alexandrovna Zaturensky . 7 
" Maximilian Marvelous," we called him for a joke. 

J. Corson Miller 74 

Men know that the birch-tree always. 

Winifred Welles 11 

Men who have loved the ships they took to sea. 

David Morton 67 

Monsters in trousers baggy and grey. 

Vine McCasland 84 

My arms were always quiet. 

Winifred Welles. 88 

Not all flowers have souls. 

Florence Tabob Holt • ... 19 

179 



Nothing to say to all those marriages. 

RoBi^RT Frost 108 

Now that the gods are gone. 

Maxwell Andebbox 18 

Oh day of fire and sun. 

Sara Teasdale 42 

O Earth you are too dear to-night. 

Saba Teasdale 42 

O Love, now the herded billows over the holy plain. 

John Hall Wheelock . . .114 

O, my friend. 

Edoar Lee Masters 112 

Observant of the way she told. 

Edwin Arlington Robinson ... 84 
Of finest porcelain and of choicest dye. 

Antoinette Db Courset Patterson 21 
Off the long headland, threshed about by round- 
backed breakers. 

John Gould Fletcher ..... 1 
Oh line of trees all dark and green. 

Rose Parke wood 16 

Oh, the lives of men, lives of men. 

Edwin Ford Piper 60 

On the cord dead hangs our sister. 

Elizabeth J. Coatsworth . . . 102 
One deep red rose I dropped into his grave. 

LiLLA Cabot Perrt 01 

One night in May in a clear sky. 

Ib.v Titus . . .' 16 

Ou! Ou! Ou! 

Myrtle Eberstein 52 

People that build their houses inland. 

Edna St. Vincent Millat ... 67 
Red wreaths. 

Carolyn Hillman 82 

Saddle me up the Zebra Dun. 

Edwin Ford Piper 88 

Searching my heart for its true sorrow. 

Edna St. Vincent Millat ... 94 
She passes by though long ago. 

Hazel Hall 78 

She said, "Lift high the cupl*' 

LiLLA Cabot Perry 90 

She wore purple, and when other people slept. 

Amy Lowell 27 

Stiff in midsummer green, the stolid hillsides 

Louis Untermeyer 24 

Strange that she can keep with ease. 

Hazel Hall 77 

180 



Stretching her toes until they kiss. 

ViNB McCabland 85 

Suddenly flickered a flame. 

Leonoba Speteb 12 

Tethered to the canvas top. 

Vine McCabland 85 

The dust is thick along the road. 

Elizabeth J. Coatsworth ... 20 
The lawyers. Bob, know too much. 

Carl Sandburg 86 

The pomp of capitals long left to rust. 

Walter Adolphb Roberts ... 44 
The Roman wall was not more grave than this. 

David Morton 21 

The roses and vines and the tall, straight, delicate poplars. 

Jameb Lane Allen 118 

The sound of rustling silk is stilled. 

Djuna Barnes 101 

The sun shines bright in many places. 

Armel O'Connor 8 

The transports move stealthily to sea. 

Kathrtn White Rtan- 65 

The ways of the world are a-coming — up Cyarrl 

Ann Cobb 80 

The white-walled Rome of an unwritten epic. 

Alotsius Coll 61 

The wood is talking in its sleep. 

Leonora Spbter 23 

There will be rose and rhododendron. 

Edna St. Vincent Millat . . . Ill 
7hey said someone was waiting. 

William Griffith 81 

They stormed the forts of Nature. 

Phcebe Hoffman .87 

They that dwell in shadow. 

Howard Mumford Jones .... 51 
This festal day, two thousand times returning. 

George Meason W^icher ... 76 
Three school-girls pass this way each day. 

Hazel Hall 58 

To Bombay and Capetown, and ports of a hundred lands. 

Gordon Malherbb Hillman ... 66 
Trees need not walk the earth. 

David Rosenthal 17 

Two of Thy children one summer day worked in their 

garden. Lord. 

Rose Parkewood ...... 20 

What are the islands to me. 

Mrs. Richard Aldington ... 88 

181